Abduction
by charli911
Summary: A kidnapped Matt becomes a pawn of vengeance for an old enemy of Jesse's. Scenes of torture-don't like, don't read.


**ABDUCTED**

Synopsis: An old enemy of Jesse's jumps at an unexpected opportunity to get some revenge.

***WARNING***...if torture makes you squeamish, I've marked the individual sections that contain those scenes; please pay attention to the warnings on those sections and skip them. You should still be able to keep up with the story...thanks *****WARNING***

Disclaimer: The original characters of HMR and Jesse Hawkes are the property of

A. Shane Co with Sibling Rivalries and are used here only for the purposes of

entertainment. All other characters belong to the author. No profit is being made.

Oh, one more thing. I really like the character of Jim Cutler, so in my mind, the untimely deaths of him and Hart in the pilot of the series Jesse Hawkes never occurred. I figure if I deny it enough, it'll eventually be true!

/

This is my first attempt at High Mountain Rangers fan fiction. I'm a bit of a purist. While I do tend to add some original characters, they are generally only on the periphery and only for single stories, rather than recurring. I'm way too senile to be able to keep up with all the original characters many of the writers here are so good at creating and weaving into their stories. So I keep it simple.

A heartfelt thanks to the actors, writers, producers and crew for the wonderful world of HMR. If you all hadn't done such a good job, we wouldn't still be interested in the characters and stories.

I have decided to pull the boys into the 21st century in as much as they have access to cellphones, GPS systems and anything else we would have in 2013. From what I've read so far many of the authors are doing that and I just figured it made the most sense. Everyone is still the same relative ages they were on the show. Ain't virtual time travel wonderful. BG

author's note-AFIS stands for Automated Fingerprint Identification System

NCIC stands for National Crime Information Center

Feedback much appreciated-good, bad or otherwise. How else would we learn?

/

_Tuesday, 8:00 AM_

The snow was falling lightly, the first snow of the season, come early. Matt Hawkes stood watching the ground slowly be covered. He sighed, then shook his head. Usually, the first snow was something he looked forward to, but this year he just didn't.

He glanced at the room behind him in the reflection of the glass. The fire was going in the large stone fireplace. Tim Hart and Izzy Flowers were playing a game of pool. Robin Kelly was sitting at the desk, reading a newspaper. Jim Cutler was kicked back on the sofa, reading one of his usual romance novels. He smiled, remembering the time his father told Cutler to quit sending the books up to his cabin, that he was making an idiot of his son, Cody.

Cody. Matt sighed again and leaned his head against the cold glass. His little brother was not speaking to him. Hadn't been for over a week. And Matt still wasn't sure why. Their father, Jesse, had tried to determine the cause and hadn't had any luck. Even Robin had attempted to find out what the issue was. Cody just wasn't talking.

Ringing interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over to see Robin pick up the phone. She began jotting down some information, glancing up at him. He pushed off the window and moved toward the desk. She nodded, said good bye, the ripped the sheet off the pad and handed it to him.

"Accident off the logging road, east of Summit. Logging truck overturned, driver pinned in the cab."

"Get the big wrecker started. You, Hart and Cutler head up there," he said. "Izzy, you got the radio. And remember the chopper's grounded, so take the heavy duty cutting equipment just in case."

"Right." She jumped up and headed out the door behind Cutler and Hart, all three grabbing their heavy parkas on the way. Matt watched them leave, then headed into his office. He had some paperwork that needed to be done, but had been having trouble concentrating on it. He closed the door, then settled behind the desk and pulled down he first file from the pile near the phone.

For the next two hours, he read reports, signed requests and paid the station bills. He was making major headway when he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," he called out. The door open to revealed his father. "Hey, Dad," he said with a smile. "You and Cody decide to beat the snow down to town?"

"Cody isn't with me."

"Something wrong, Dad?"

Jesse sighed and sat in the chair across from his eldest son. "Not sure. He still won't tell me what his issue is with you. I've stopped asking since it was just making him upset every time I did."

Matt nodded." I understand. It's bad enough he's angry with me, no point in making him upset with you too."

"I wish I could have found out what the problem is," Jesse commented. "But I think you might have misinterpreted his silence. He told me he's not angry, but refused to elaborate. He'd only say that he found out some things and that he needs to think on it before he brings it up. And that whatever he found out has to do with you. Anything else, he wouldn't go into. I guess we'll just have to wait until he's ready to talk."

"You know Cody. He'll tell me eventually, if I can't figure it out for myself. And if I can't figure it out in the next few days, I'll just snag him up and hold him somewhere until he tells me!"

Jesse chuckled. "Just don't try to force it, son. It'll be even worse, because then he will be angry. I have a feeling it won't be long before he says something to someone. He can only keeps things bottled up so long. "

"I just don't get it, Dad. He's never had a problem before telling me if he had a problem with something I did or said. Why is this so different?"

"I don't know, son, I don't know. I do know that he's been spending more time with his mother, but I'm not sure if it has anything to do with that or not."

"Have you said anything to Mom? I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks."

"No, I haven't seen her either. I dropped him off there again this morning, but I don't think she was home."

Matt shrugged. "I'm supposed to have dinner with her tomorrow night. Is Cody staying over?"

"He planned to stay the weekend."

"He may have to if the snow keeps up," Matt commented. "Looks like we may get a foot or more overnight."

"Yeah, I saw that. Already have close to that up at the cabin. I'll be camping out at your mom's too, tonight. So maybe we can work this out together as a family after dinner tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Matt said, looking up at a knock on the doorjamb.

"Matt, Robin just called. They're transporting that driver to Barton, then they'll be back," Izzy said. "She said they'd stop and grab supplies and groceries on the way back."

"Thanks, Izzy. Did you already call the store and give them our list?"

"Yeah, they said they'd have it ready when Robin got there."

"Good deal. Frank back yet?"

"Yep, got back about twenty minutes ago."

"Have him plow the front lot."

"Already on it, boss," Flowers said with a smile.

"I see all my training has paid off," Matt teased.

"Hey, boss, I'm just glad we finally got that plow on the big truck. I sure got tired of shoveling all that snow with a shovel."

"Now, if we could just teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee," Matt said.

"Hey, I'm getting better," Izzy insisted.

"And it's only taken eight months!"

Jesse chuckled at the by-play between his son and the newest member of the Rangers crew. He liked Izzy, but the boy could be a bit flighty and he couldn't make a good cup of coffee to save his life.

"How about I make the next pot," Jesse offered. "If the boss doesn't mind if I hang out for a bit." He glanced at Matt, who nodded.

"Be glad to have the company, Dad, but don't touch that coffee pot! You're sludge is worse than Izzy's! I have to dilute it with a gallon of water just to make it drinkable."

"Son, you just have to toughen up that stomach of yours," Jesse said, shaking his head. "A good, strong cup of coffee is needed to fortify you for the job ahead." He stood up and walked out.

"Emphasis on 'good', since I'd rather keep my stomach intact, and not have the coffee eat a hole through it!" Matt called out after him. The only response he got was a full-throated laugh. He resigned himself to drinking tea or soda the rest of the day.

_Ranger Station_

_Tuesday, 3:00 PM_

Later that afternoon, all the Rangers except Matt were out on calls. Since he still had some paperwork to finish up, he'd opted to let Izzy respond with Hart and Robin on the last call while he manned the radio and finished up the last of the backlogged reports. That way, he could get them all finished before the slew of new ones he expected that weekend landed on his desk. Jesse had gotten bored and decided to head for Jackie's house early.

Jim Cutler and Frank Avila were headed up to Heavenly Ski resort to assist their security with a group of hikers that got caught unprepared for snow in the backcountry. Since it was still early in the season, the full contingent of Ski Patrollers wasn't on the mountain yet, so the High Mountain Rangers helped where and when they could. Luckily, the hikers had a GPS system and cellphones with them, so they were able to call for assistance and give an exact location. It was just a matter of going in to get them. And once they were warm and off the mountain, giving them the lecture about being prepared for anything when you ventured into the high country.

At Heavenly, Jim Cutler was verifying that he had all the information he needed for his report while Avila chatted with the lone Ski Patroller in the infirmary at the resort. None of the hikers were injured, but a couple were suffering from the cold. They would be allowed to warm up, then they would be checked again before they were released.

Cutler closed his notebook and slid it in his pocket as he joined Avila. He shook his head in exasperation. "Some people just never learn," he commented.

"Problem?" Frank asked.

"The big guy, with the dark hair? He was up here last year, told me the same thing happened. You'd think he would have learned from his past mistakes."

Avila smiled and glanced at the Ski Patroller. "Job security, amigo. As long as they do stupid things, we still get a pay check."

"Yeah, I guess. But still..."

"Hey, can you guys give us a ride to our car?" one of the females in the group asked as she walked up.

"Where's your car?" Cutler asked.

"Far end of the parking lot."

"Ah, no, I think you can walk."

"It's awful far," she said, wrapping her hand around Jim's arm and smiling up at him.

"You planned to walk twenty miles in the woods. I think a few hundred yards more to your car won't kill you," he replied, fed up with entire group.

"But it's cold outside," she pouted, hands on hips.

"Maybe that'll teach you a lesson about bringing warm clothing next time you come up here," Avila said, as he smacked Cutler on the arm and walked away. "Let's go, Jim."

"Sorry," Jim said, following him, and waving goodbye to the patroller.

"Spoilsports," she said, before turning to the patroller and smiling at him. Cutler chuckled and headed outside to their vehicle. He started the big Blazer while Avila called it in.

"White Eagle to Ranger base, over." He didn't get a reply, so he turned up the volume and tried again. "White Eagle to Ranger base, over."

Still not getting a reply, he turned to Cutler. "Let's head down, maybe we're just in a bad spot. I'll try again when we get into town."

Cutler nodded and put the vehicle in gear. Twenty minutes later, they were at the bottom of the access road and Avila still had no luck contacting Matt at the station.

"White Eagle to Frostbite, over."

"Frostbite here."

"Robin, have you been in contact with Matt lately?"

"Negative, not for the last thirty minutes or so. Why?"

"We just left Heavenly, and can't get hold of him. It's apparently not a malfunction on our end if you can hear us."

"Stand by and I'll see if he can hear us. You might be in a blind spot."

Jim and Frank heard Robin calling the station, but were not able to hear any reply. Less than a minute later Robin came back.

"White Eagle, I'm getting no answer either. Could be an emergency came up and he's not able to get to the radio at the moment."

"Yeah, maybe. But I'm not liking this. We're gonna head back, maybe see if the Sheriff's Office has anyone close that could check it out. We're about thirty minutes away."

"Good Luck. Let us know if we can help. But we're even further away than you are at the moment."

"Will do Frostbite. White Eagle out."

"Frostbite, out"

With a quick, worried glance at Cutler, Frank switched over to the Sheriff's radio channel. "High Mountain Rangers White Eagle calling El Dorado Sheriff, over."

"E.D.S.O., go ahead White Eagle," came the reply.

"E.D.S.O., we've not been able to contact the Ranger Station. Do you have any reports of problems in the area?"

"Negative, White Eagle. I can send a unit over to check, but it'll be an hour or more. All my deputies are tied up on high priority calls at the moment."

"Negative. We can be there sooner, but thanks. White Eagle out."

"Copy that, White Eagle, E.D.S.O. out."

Frank slipped the radio mic back into its carrier and leaned back. "I don't like this, Jim. If Matt was okay, he'd have gotten to the radio."

Cutler didn't reply, but reached down and flipped on the overhead flashers and turned on the siren. "Only one way to find out," he said.

Fifteen minutes later, the big Chevy Blazer slid into the snow-covered parking lot. Cutler and Avila jumped out and race up the stairs. Pulling open the door, they stopped, amazed at the destruction of the main room. The radio desk was pushed several feet from where it had been, the radio smashed on the floor. Papers were scattered everywhere. Both sofas had been moved from their original positions and the coffee table that once sat between them was now nothing but shattered wood, fit only for kindling.

Most disturbing was the blood splattered on the floor near the stone hearth in front of the large fireplace.

/

_Ranger Station_

_Tuesday, 4:45 PM_

Fear raced through both men.

"Matt!" Avila yelled. "Matt, are you in here?" Both men raced through the building, searching for any sign of their Commander and friend, their voices calling out his name as they went.

They joined up again near the front door, each shaking their head.

"No sign of him," said Cutler. "But there's lot of broken stuff in the kitchen as well, so whatever happened, it ended up in there. Looks like they left out the back door. I didn't want to go to much further for fear of destroying any evidence."

"Evidence. But evidence of what?" Frank replied. "What the hell happened?"

"We need to call the others and the Sheriff's department."

"We should call Jesse too. And that is not a call I want to make. I'll head out to the truck, try to contact Hart. With Matt gone, he's in charge. Matt's office didn't appear to be touched, so you call the Sheriff from there."

"And Jesse?" Cutler asked.

"I think I'll leave that to Hart."

Cutler nodded and headed toward Matt's office, careful not to step on anything that might prove important in the investigation. Both men were standing on the porch, when Hart's Blazer raced up the drive, joining the two Sheriff's vehicles that were already there.

"Anything?" Tim asked as he quickly joined them, followed by Robin and Izzy. All three were worried and anxious.

"No sign of him," Frank told him. "It does look like whoever it was took him out the back and up into the hills on foot. But with the snow coming down so heavy now higher up, we'll need to move fast to catch up before we lose any tracks."

"I called Jesse. He's gonna help us track. Any idea how many?"

"Saw two distinct tracks, plus Matt's. And someone is bleeding pretty heavily, but can't tell if it's Matt or not."

"Snowmobile's ready?"

Frank shook his head. "Out of order. They sabotaged the engines on all of them before they left."

"Damn! Okay, horses it is. We'll need to move faster then them. Let's get ready to move. Better get a horse ready for Cody too. I'm sure he'll be with Jesse."

"We already switched the phones over to the Sheriff's Dispatch Center. Radio is totally destroyed, so no need to keep anyone here for that, but dispatch said they'd monitor the channel for us. Once we get the equipment we need, we'll lock down the building since it's a crime scene. Sheriff will get his Crime Scene Unit go over it while we search for Matt."

"Good deal," Hart said. "Let's go. Jesse will catch up with us."

Hart and Avila went back into the building to pull out weapons and ammunition, keeping clear of the main destruction, while the others headed to the stables to ready the horses. It wasn't the ideal way to search in the snow, but with the snowmobiles out of commission, it was all they had if they wanted to try to catch up quickly. Soon, the only sounds heard were the snorts and whinnies of the horses, and leather being shifted and cinched, then rifles sliding home in their places on the saddles.

Jesse and Cody arrived as they were mounting up. The father and son grabbed the reins of the extra horses and took the lead. Hart caught them up as they rode.

_Somewhere in Desolation Wilderness_

_Tuesday, 5:00 PM_

Matt stumbled as he was shoved from behind. His head was killing him where the larger of the two men, whom Matt had dubbed Caveman since he resembled every drawing he'd never seen of Neanderthal man, had pistol-whipped him. But he took comfort in the fact that the other man, whom Matt was calling Fidget because he had some type of nervous tick which made him look like a fidgety child, was hurting worse after hitting the floor near the fireplace as Matt took him down.

They'd charged into the station and immediately took him down, the big one hurling himself over the desk and slamming Matt to the floor. He'd managed to get up, only to be wrestled to the floor again by Fidget. The three had fought for just a few short minutes, Matt finally slamming Fidget to the ground, where he hit face first on the floor in front of the fireplace, stunning him long enough for Matt to get up, only to go down again when Caveman sent the blond Ranger to the ground by slamming his pistol against the side of Matt's head, dazing him.

Taking advantage, the man pulled Matt's hands behind him, binding him with a zip-tie and pulling it tight. He'd then kicked Matt in the ribs several times before turning to check on his friend. Once the bleeding man had gotten up, he'd also taken a couple of quick shots at Matt, before the two men dragged him off the floor. They pulled him through the kitchen, where Matt again tried to get away, knocking over the coffeepot and causing several dishes to crash to the floor. They slammed him against the wall, his bound arms hindering him, then they dragged him out the back door.

They'd been moving steadily for the last hour, not stopping to rest. He chanced a glance behind him, noticing that the snow was getting heavier and quickly covering any tracks. He hoped the others had returned and figured out what happened, as he was sure that before long there wouldn't be any trail to follow.

And that would mean he'd be on his own and would have to rescue himself. Less than a mile later, they stepped onto a fire service road. Matt saw a large SUV parked there. Assuming that's where they were headed, he knew he had to make another attempt to get away. He slammed against Fidget, causing him to fall back against his partner and they both went down. Matt took off running.

He'd gotten no more than twenty steps when pain slammed into his back and he went down.

/

"Was that a gunshot?" Cody exclaimed, as they reined in.

"That way!" Jesse directed, motioning toward the west, and taking off once again.

The others followed, pushing their horses as quickly as they could through the snow.

/

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"He was getting away!"

"Yeah, and now the Rangers know where the hell we are!"

"They can't follow us in this weather."

"Don't count on it. Let's get him in the truck and get out of here."

The two men each grabbed an arm and pulled. Matt cried out, but they didn't stop. Instead they dragged him to the their vehicle and opened up the rear hatch, tossing him in the back. The larger man unzipped a small leather pouch and pulled out a syringe. He slammed it against Matt's thigh and emptied the contents into him.

"That should keep him quiet until we get where we're going," he remarked, tossing the syringe onto the ground. He covered the now unconscious Ranger with a tarp and shut the hatch. "Let's get out of here. We've got a big paycheck coming when we drop him off."

Both men smiled, then climbed into the vehicle and drove off.

/

Ten minutes later, Jesse led the Rangers onto the road. He looked down at the tire tracks.

"A couple of you follow those tracks, see if you can get any look at the vehicle. And radio the Sheriff, see if they can get a patrol unit at the other end to stop it!"

Cutler and Robin took off as fast as their horses could travel. The others all quickly dismounted and searched the area.

"Blood over here," Hart said. Jesse headed over, studying the ground as he did.

"Looks like he tried to get away," the senior Hawkes said quietly, squatting down beside the stain that looked especially bright against the white snow. "They likely shot him in the back as he ran."

"How bad?" Cody asked, standing over his father's shoulder. Jesse looked up and could see the fear in the eyes of his youngest. It was a fear he knew was reflected in his own.

"I don't know, son. There isn't a lot of blood here, but that could mean that either they picked him up quickly...or the bullet didn't exit and he fell face first, which means there wouldn't be a wound to bleed out onto the ground."

"Either way, we need to find him. Fast," Hart said.

"Let's catch up to the others," Jesse said, moving to mount up again.

"Found this over by the tire tracks," Izzy said as he joined them, holding up the syringe, now in a clear evidence bag.

"Dad!" Cody said, his eyes anxiously moving between the bag and his father's face.

"Easy son," Jesse said, resting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "It could be that they just injected him with something to keep him quiet. Your brother is a Ranger. They'd know he'd make every effort to escape."

"But...how would that effect him if he's been shot?"

"I don't know, son. It depends on what they gave him."

"Cody, your dad's right. It probably is just something to keep him quiet," Frank insisted. "If they'd wanted him dead, he'd still be back at the station."

The teen nodded his head, settled some by the logic of Avila's argument. He'd been at odds with his brother lately, for reasons that now, in light of everything, seemed petty. He just wanted the chance to tell his brother he loved him.

"We have to find him!" Cody stated, quickly mounting and riding after Cutler and Robin.

"You heard him, boys," Jesse said, as he and the others followed.

/

They caught up to Jim and Robin at the bottom of the fire service road, where it met the surface street. They were talking to a California State Patrol officer and Deputy Tucker from the Sheriff's Office.

They all dismounted and headed over in time to hear Cutler say, "So, you didn't see any vehicles coming off the service road?"

"No, not in the last ten minutes. That's when I arrived," the deputy said. "The trooper got here about two minutes later."

"And I saw no one, didn't pass any vehicles fitting your description on my way," the trooper said.

"Description? Robin, you saw a vehicle?" Hart asked.

Robin nodded. "We caught a glimpse of a white vehicle, looked like an SUV, on the switchback. But were never able to get close enough to get a better description."

"Any chance they turned off somewhere along the service road?"

"Not that we saw," Cutler said. "And believe me, we were watching. Only one set of tracks coming out, no indications that they turned off or stopped the vehicle anywhere along the way. No other tracks of any kind."

"Okay. Not much we can do here at the moment. Tuck, any chance you could run Cutler back to the station to pick up our horse trailer," Hart asked. "It'll be quicker than riding back." When the Deputy nodded, he continued. "Izzy, go with them. Bring back one of the Blazers. While we wait for you, we'll ride either direction from here and see if we can find out where they might have gone. They had to have known we'd be following them. If they were able to get onto the main road before anyone got here, they might have switched to another vehicle and ditched the SUV nearby. Let's see if we can find it."

The others agreed and the group split up.

Frank Avila was following behind the two Hawkes men, scanning the area. He was scared for his friend. He'd known Matt Hawkes since high school, same as Cutler. All three had grown up in the South Tahoe area and at that time the town was still small enough to only have one elementary school and one high school.

They'd gone to classes together, ditched classes together, and gotten into trouble together. He almost wished he was with Matt now. At least together, they'd have a better chance of escape. But as difficult as it was for him, he knew it was a nightmare for the two who rode in front of him. Especially Cody.

The fifteen year old looked up to his brother, thought there wasn't a better Ranger on the planet-at least not since his father had retired, anyway. He was also aware that Cody had been giving Matt the cold shoulder lately and if he knew Cody, that was weighing heavily on the boy's mind.

Jesse pulled up, Cody stopping next to him. He glanced behind him, then gestured with his head toward the trees, where Frank could see obvious tire tracks slowly being covered in the snow. The trio dismounted and followed the tracks, this time with Avila in the lead. Fifty yards into the trees, they spotted a white Ford SUV. Frank put up an arm to stop the others, then pulled his rifle from it's spot on the rear of his saddle.

"Cody, stay with the horses," Jesse said, pulling his own rifle, handing his reins to his son. Frank also handed over his reins, then he and Jesse approached the vehicle. The big SUV was parked between two low hanging trees, facing out. The front passenger door was standing open.

Frank moved up slowly, his hand trailing over the hood to see if it was still warm. He crouched down by the open door, and peeked around it. Nothing. Standing up, he quickly looked inside, then moved to open the rear door. Again, nothing. Both men walked toward the rear of the vehicle. A quick glance and a nod from Jesse, and Frank moved to open the hatch, Jesse backed off a couple feet to cover him, rifle up against his shoulder. Avila quickly lifted the hatch, then took a step back, leaving the area clear in case Jesse needed to take a shot.

Empty. Well, empty except for a blue tarp. A blue tarp...covered in blood.

"Damn," Frank muttered.

/

Twenty miles away, a black Ford Explorer pulled into an isolated clearing. Two men got out and walked to the rear of the vehicle. Opening up the back door, one of the men reached inside and dragged an unconscious Matt Hawkes out. The second man grabbed hold and the two carried their burden toward the small rundown shed ten feet away. Once they reached the door, the taller man reached out and opened the rusty latch and pushed the door open. They dragged Matt through the door and dropped him on the dirty, rotten floor.

"So, what now?" Fidget asked.

"No, we go see the boss and collect our fee for this little delivery," Caveman replied.

"What about him?" the smaller man nodded at the unconscious Ranger.

His scruffy partner shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

"Are we supposed to come back and get him after the job is done?"

"I told you, I don't know," Caveman said with a frown.

"We leave him out here, he's gonna die."

"Probably wouldn't if you hadn't shot him," the other man said with a snarl.

"He was getting away!" Fidget insisted.

"How far was he gonna go with his hands tied, you idiot?!"

"Don't call me an idiot."

"Then quit acting like one. Let's get out of here. Boss wants to finish this job and leave the area. This is gonna be a big payday for all of us."

"You think this'll work?" the smaller man said, looking down at Matt again.

"Boss has been working on this for awhile. Says the take will be big enough for all of us to retire in luxury." Caveman said with a smile.

"I hope he's right 'cause we need to get out of the country for awhile."

"Why?"

He nodded toward the unconscious man on the ground. "Man, 'cause if that Ranger dies, we could face the chair."

"They don't use the chair, anymore."

"They don't?"

Caveman shook his head. "Come on. Boss wants to pull this job tonight while all the cops are looking for this dude."

"But what do they use now, if not the chair?" Fidget asked as they walked out the door, pulled it closed behind them and making sure it latched again.

Neither heard the groan nor saw the slight movement from the man on the ground.

/

_Ranger Station_

_Tuesday, 7:00 PM_

"Sheriff's Department is going over the SUV. They'll run any prints they find through AFIS," Hart said. "They have determined that the blood on the tarp is the same type as Matt's, so we have to assume it's the suspect vehicle. There were no prints on the syringe and it looks like it contained a simple sedative, so it was probably used just to keep Matt quiet while they moved him."

The Rangers and the Hawkes were sitting around the main room, most clutching mugs of coffee. They were at a standstill. They'd found the vehicle, but no Matt. Frank had called a tow truck for the vehicle in order to get the evidence processing started. They had just returned to the station, where Hart had them searching past files, and gathering names to check against recently released prisoners.

"At this point, we don't know if Matt was the target, or if any Ranger on duty would have been taken," Hart continued. Izzy gasped. He knew that, as the rookie, it was his duty to man the radio. It should have been him there that morning. And as much as he hated that Matt was missing, he also felt selfish enough to be glad it hadn't been him. And that made him feel guilty as well. Robin rubbed her hand on his back, letting him know she understood his feelings.

"Did they get anything from the search here?" Cutler asked.

"Yeah, some prints. Those will be run through AFIS as well. Robin, we need to get them copies of all our fingerprints, so they can eliminate those from what they picked up."

"I'll fax them over now," she said, getting up and heading into Matt's office, where the files on each of the Rangers, including fingerprints taken to complete their background checks, were kept.

"And the blood they found here wasn't Matt's, so they'll get a DNA profile and see if it matches anything they have on file. But that will likely take at least couple of days, probably longer. They'll have to send it to the State Crime Lab in Sacramento. McBride said he'd personally drive it down there if he had to. Since Matt is a Federal Officer and it's an active abduction, they'll put a rush on it, but it still takes time."

"What can we do while we wait, Frank?" Jesse asked.

"Jesse, I realize you're retired now, but since we have no clue as to who took Matt or why, we have to look at everything. Cutler and Izzy are going through the most recent cases, the last four years. I'd like you to go through the older ones, make note of any that stand out as maybe someone who might still bear a grudge against you or the Rangers."

Jesse nodded and headed toward the storage room where they kept their older files.

"We need to get the radio shop here too, see if they can salvage our communications."

"I can take a look at it if you want," Cody said, softly. "At least get an idea of how bad it's damaged."

"That would be great, Cody, thanks."

The teen nodded and turned away, a deep sigh uttered as he did. The other Rangers exchanged sad glances, knowing how tough this had to be for Matt's little brother.

They worked well into the evening. The floor and tables were scattered with empty pizza boxes, food courtesy of a local pizzeria. The families of the Rangers and those of several of the local deputies came by to offer support and help clean up the mess, especially the fingerprint dust that covered nearly everything.

At midnight, Hart called a halt. They'd gathered a long list of past convictions that they were running through the system. It was amazing how many people the Rangers had arrested in the thirty-odd years they been around. Izzy offered to stay up and man the phones, just in case they got a break in the case. The others headed upstairs to try to get some sleep. No one figured to sleep well.

/

_Somewhere in Desolation Wilderness _

_Wednesday, 6:00 am_

Pain was the first thing that registered. His head. His back. His arms. Everything hurt. And then he felt the cold. He shivered and when he opened his eyes, he saw wood. He blinked several times, hoping to get a clearer view. It didn't help.

_I think I'm gonna have to move_, he thought. Several minutes later he was actually able to accomplish that feat, but wished he hadn't when the pain in his back flared and almost forced him back into unconsciousness. Groaning, he fought the darkness, but when he tried to bring his arms up underneath him, he realized that his hands were bound behind him.

"Damn," he muttered, closing his eyes, and laying his forehead back against the floor. He remembered the shot he'd heard and knew that was what was causing the pain in his back. This did not look good. Eventually, he was able to sit up and lean against the wall. Several minutes passed before the spinning stopped and the nauseous feeling left. He swallowed then chanced opening his eyes once again.

He was in a small wood building, which looked like a shed. There was one door and two small windows. It was freezing and there didn't appear to be any heat in the building. In fact, there wasn't much of anything in the building, except dust, rotten boards and him. At least the windows were still intact.

"Wonderful," he said, "I either bleed to death or freeze to death. Great choice." He sat still for several minutes, listening. He heard nothing but the wind. No voices, no vehicles. He knew he was going to have to get up, to see if he could get a look out either of the windows. And he knew the pain it would cause.

"Buck up, Hawkes. Get your butt off the floor," he muttered, trying to gather the strength to move again. He blew out a deep breath and pulled his legs up underneath him. Leaning his back against the wall and pushing with his hands, he slowly got to his feet, crying out as he moved. He felt his sweater catch on the dried blood on his back, and felt a new trickle of fresh blood. He stopped again, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily, hoping his legs would hold him upright. After a minute, he looked up. The closest window was about six feet away. Six feet that looked, at the moment, like six miles.

_One step at a time, Hawkes, one step at a time_. He moved his left leg, not lifting it far off the floor, then shuffled his right foot next to it. Taking small steps and keeping is shoulder against the wall, he finally made it to the window, which thankfully was low enough for him to look out without having to stretch.

Nothing. Just snow and trees for miles. The sun had barely dusted the mountain with light, but he thought he recognized the general area. That was good...except for the fact that if he was where he thought he was, he was a good ten to fifteen miles from Tahoe. And it appeared that he'd been here at least overnight. He turned around to face the other window across the room. The door was closer, so he figured to try that first, see if it was locked.

He once again began his shuffling walk, a bit faster this time as he got used to it. He turned his back to the door and tried to grab the metal handle with his hands, only then realizing how numb they were, either from the cold or the lack of circulation, he wasn't sure. And he didn't figure it mattered at this point. He tried to stuff them under the top of his jeans, hoping that warming them might get some feeling back.

Trying again, he got hold of the latch. He pressed onto his toes, trying to use his legs to move the latch up. But he lost his hold, stumbling and falling to his knees. "Shit!" he exclaimed, struggling to keep from landing flat on his face. He succeeded, but just barely. He moved back to the wall, once again forcing himself to his feet.

Taking a deep breath, he once more grasped the latch and pushed it up, careful to keep his balance. He heard a snick, that sounded loud in the quiet building, and the door opened. He held on, not wanting the door to knock him over or make any noise by slamming against the wall, in case anyone was nearby. Leaning back slightly, he looked outside.

It was so quiet. Normally that kind of quiet, with snow falling lightly, would bring him peace. But now, in his condition, so far from help-it was anything but peaceful. He debated whether he should walk outside to make sure he was alone, or stay inside where it was just a bit warmer.

Figuring that it was better to have all the information he could, he pushed the door open and moved outside, keeping his shoulder in touch with the doorframe as he moved. The biting wind caused him to shiver, the lack of any type of jacket making itself known. He'd have to make this a quick look, then get back inside.

Slowly, he moved around the building. Thankfully, it was small, but it still took him several minutes to make the trek around and back to the door. About one hundred feet from the shed was the remains of a larger structure. The blackened wood indicated the building had succumbed to fire. The sight nudged a memory in his mind, but the pain in his head didn't allow him narrow in on it.

Looking around further, he spotted some tire tracks, but they were nearly covered with newly fallen snow, and appeared to be several hours old. So, it looked like he'd been dumped and left. But why? And would whoever dumped him return? He shook his head. No time for that now, he had more pressing things on his mind. The first of which was some way to free his hands. He could tell by the feel that a zip-tie had been used, which meant it would be more difficult to work through. As he moved back into the shed, he glanced around for anything he could use to break the ties. Seeing nothing on the floor, he figured his best bet was the corner of the doorframe, which boasted a rough-hewn 4x4 on either side.

His legs were beginning to waver, so he closed the door and slid down to sit against the wall again. Taking a short breather, he flexed his fingers, warming them back up. He was shivering so hard, his teeth were clattering together. But with the cold, the pain from his back had begun to abate. He wasn't sure if that would be a good thing in the long run, but for now he was just grateful for the reduced pain.

He shifted his body around until the edge of the frame was between his palms, then slowly began working his wrists up and down against the wood. Periodically, he could feel a splinter slide under the skin on a palm or into a finger, and eventually as he worked he warmed up slightly, which caused the gunshot wound in his back to flare up. He could almost feel the bullet still lodged inside, and hoped it wouldn't shift and do more damage while he tried to extricate himself.

Over the next hour, taking frequent breaks to rest, he worked against the binding. When they finally broke it took him by surprise and he slipped back, hitting his head against the wall. _Great, not enough that those two goons bashed me, now I'm bashing myself, _he thought. He tried to reach up to rub the back of his head, only to find that his arms wouldn't cooperate.

"Ow, ow, ow," he groaned. "Damn, that hurts." His arms had been bound so long behind his back that it hurt just to pull them forward and drop them in his lap. Unnoticed tears fell onto his upturned palms as he tried to force the pain down. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, slipping into a fitful, and painful, doze.

/

_Ranger Station_

_Wednesday, 6:00 AM_

Dawn found every Ranger awake and already working. Robin was on the phone with the Department of Corrections, trying to determine which of the criminals they'd put away were still incarcerated and which had been released. It was a long, tedious process, but necessary to eliminate suspects.

The Sheriff's office had the city of Tahoe plastered with Matt's picture and some of the details of his abduction, just in case anyone saw anything suspicious. They'd called in all of their off-duty deputies and dispatchers to assist and set up a toll-free number for tips. The deputies were all checking with their own contacts and informants to see if there were any rumors circulating as to who had taken Matt and why.

Hart had contacted the FBI office in Sacramento and they had agents enroute to Tahoe, but had been delayed by a bad accident on Highway 50 coming through the town of Strawberry, east of Placerville. He wasn't sure how much help they'd be, but since Matt was a Federal Law Enforcement Officer, it was protocol to notify the Bureau. Izzy just hoped they didn't get in the way.

Hart and Cutler were continuing to go over past reports, as was Jesse. Izzy had been sent upstairs to grab some much-needed sleep since he'd stayed up all night. Not that any of the others had been able to get much more sleep than he did. He'd mentioned to Jesse that Cody had been up and roaming the station most of the night, which wasn't a surprise to Jesse since he'd been tossing and turning himself, unable to stop the images of his oldest that his mind conjured up.

Frank sat by the phone, taking a break from going over the reports. He leaned back, stretching to work the kinks out, and watched Cody stare out the window. The teen sat on the floor, next to the large picture window, the remnants of the station radio scattered around him. Periodically, he'd pick up piece or two, make some small attempt to work on the radio, only to be distracted by thoughts of his older brother.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the cold glass. He swallowed hard and took a couple deep breaths, trying to keep from sobbing. His bottom lip trembled, as did his hands. Every time he picked up a piece of the shattered radio, it would threaten to jump out of his hand because it was shaking so badly. He had accomplished absolutely nothing. He opened his eyes and glanced around the room. Everyone was working, but nothing was being accomplished. Suddenly, the walls started closing in on him. He jumped up and raced for the door, startling everyone in the room. He slammed through and out onto the porch, but even that wasn't enough, still too close.

He took off running, tears falling now, but he was unaware of them as they flowed down his cheeks. He panted as he raced into the woods behind the station, running as fast as he could through the snow, until he stumbled over a buried stone. Falling to all fours, he sobbed, great gasping breaths not enough to fill his lungs. "Please," he begged, breathless. "Please don't let my brother die! Please."

As Jesse walked up behind him, his heart ached from the pain he could see in his son's body and his own deep-seated fear for his eldest child. He knelt down next to Cody and softly placed his hand on the boy's back, unsure whether he was trying to comfort Cody or himself, and unsure if it was helping either one of them.

It was a full minute before Cody realized his father was next to him and when he did he launched himself toward him, assured that the older man would catch him. Jesse wrapped his arms around his son, each clutching the other tightly, both crying now.

"We have to find him, Dad! We have to!"

"We're doing everything we can, Cody," Jesse assured him.

"I miss him so much. I have to tell him...have to say..."

"Say what, son?"

"Dad...I have to tell him that I love him! He has to know!"

"He knows that, boy. He knows it like you know that he loves you."

"I'm so scared. What if we never find him? Or we find him too late? What if he di...di..."

Cody began sobbing again, as hard as before. Jesse just held him tighter, his own tears streaming down his face. Eventually, Cody pulled away, sniffing and wiping a hand across his face.

"Don't write your brother off yet, son. He's strong. You know he's working to get himself free. And he knows we're looking." Jesse put his hands on either side of Cody's face. "We won't stop looking until we find him. You know that, don't you, boy?"

Cody nodded. "I'm just so scared, Dad," he whispered.

"Me too, boy, me too," Jesse replied, pulling Cody back to him. They stayed that way for another minute before Cody pulled away.

"We need to get back inside, keep looking."

Jesse smiled and nodded, letting his son help him off the ground, then he wrapped an arm over Cody's shoulder and led the boy back to the station.

As they entered the station, Frank approached. "Everything okay?" he asked.

Jesse nodded. Cody, slightly embarrassed by his abrupt departure, and not wanting the others to know he'd been crying, just looked at the floor and leaned against his father.

"Cody, I've been talking to Tim. Now that the weather's clear, I can get the bird up. Since the others are all still busy here, and it doesn't seem like the radio is salvageable, I could use an observer. You interested?"

Cody eyes lit up. "Yes! Is that okay, Dad?" he asked, looking at his father.

"Of course it is! You go get your gear, talk to Robin and have her set you up with a first aid kit too, just in case you find him."

Cody took off, finally having a purpose and getting the chance to take an active role in looking for Matt.

"Thank you, Frank."

"Thank Cutler, it was his idea. We all hate to see Cody that way. And we're all chomping at the bit to be out there searching, but we have to know where to look, ya know. We'll probably only find a lot of nothing except trees and snow, but..." he shrugged.

"But at least you'll be doing something! I wish I was going with you, but I still have a few records to go through here. Although I think we're barking up the wrong tree. I just have a feeling this isn't related to Ranger business."

"You think it might be personal against Matt, not related to his job?"

"I don't know, Frank. I just ...I don't know, it's hard to explain."

Frank slapped a hand down on Jesse's shoulder. "Well, Cody and I will get up and crisscross this whole county if we have to. And if we don't find him, we'll hit the next county, and the next. If I know Matt, he's working out a way to signal us as we speak."

"Yeah, if he's able."

Frank could only nod, not wanting to voice what they all knew. Matt had a bullet in him and could very well be unable to do anything to help himself.

/

_Somewhere in Desolation Wilderness_

_Wednesday, 11:30 AM _

Matt Hawkes jerked awake, the movement causing the pain to awaken also. He groaned, reaching toward his back, where the deepest pain radiated. He knew he'd been shot in the upper left part of his back and wondered how long it would take to bleed to death. At least the cold probably kept the bleeding to a minimum as long as he didn't move around too much.

But how long could he survive, wounded and freezing, before he succumbed. Since there was no sign that the men who took him planned to return and they'd left nothing in the way of food or water, he needed to do something so that the Rangers could find him. Which meant he needed to venture outside once again. And he wasn't sure he had the strength to even get up again, much less doing anything to make his position known.

As he sat there, remnants of a disjointed conversation returned. He had no idea how much he'd actually heard or what he'd imagined. He remembered being dragged out of the vehicle and into the shed. They must have assumed he was unconscious or that he'd never live to talk about what he heard.

Matt closed his eyes, trying to remember what was said. He felt sure it was important. But the effort only caused his head to ache. Glancing out the window, he saw the sun peeking through to clouds. Judging by the angle, it looked to be almost noon. Still a lot of light left and the weather was clear enough for the helicopter to fly.

"Now or never, Matt," he spoke out loud. "Get off your ass and do something to help them find you." Once, twice, three times he tried to get up, each time he slid back down again, his legs weak and the pain in his head and back letting him know he should be resting. "Okay, easier said then done," he muttered. "But if you don't get your ass outside, you'll probably die here. Is that what you want, Hawkes? Well, is it?"

"Geez, now you sound like Dad." He chuckled. "But, then I guess that's not such a bad thing. Besides, if you don't get up, you'll never figure out what's been eating at Cody. And do you really want Cody to know that you gave up?" Shaking his head at that thought, he tried one more time. Agony laced up and down his back, slamming into his head, as he grunted and groaned and pushed himself up, leaning on the wall when his legs threatened to give out again and grabbing onto the door latch to hold himself upright. "Fuck!" he cried, his eyes tightly closed but still unable to keep the tears at bay.

Finally, he took a deep breath and opened the door. The wind was calmer now and he walked outside. Forcing the pain to the back of his mind, he set out to locate enough branches big enough for some kind of S.O.S.

/

_Wednesday, 11:30 AM_

In the air over Desolation Wilderness, one man and a teenage boy had been flying over the hills and trees for three hours.

"We need to go back and refuel," Frank said over the headphone covering Cody's ears.

"No, we can't stop!"

"We're not gonna stop, but if I don't refuel, we'll go down. Mark the grid, we'll go get some fuel and come right back. I promise, Cody, we'll be back."

Cody nodded, despair once again his constant companion, and marked his map quickly, then set his eyes back outside toward the ground, not wanting to waste a minute of flight time.

Frank veered off and heading for the Tahoe Airport, radioing ahead so they knew he was in a hurry. He didn't want to waste time searching for the fuel truck. This way it would be ready and waiting for him to land. While he flew, he contacted base once more.

"White Eagle to Ranger base, over."

"Ranger base, go ahead White Eagle."

"Anything new?"

"Negative, White Eagle. We're done with the files now, though. And the mechanic has two of the snowmobiles back in operation," Izzy replied. "So Cutler and Jesse will be heading out in a little bit. We've been tracking your search here and they'll pickup from the ground from the Southwest corner of the grid."

"Roger that, Base. We're heading in to refuel then will be back in the area to continue."

"Roger, Eagle, base out."

/

_Ranger Station _

_Wednesday, 11:30 AM_

Izzy set the radio mic back on its base and looked up when the door opened. A man and woman, both in business suits, walked in the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The woman flipped open a wallet. "Agent Toni Foster, FBI. My partner, Alex Vedichi."

"Izzy Flowers. Hold on and I'll get the boss."

While they waited, the agents took a look around the room. Foster was tall, even in flats, her dark skin contrasting with the pale yellow shirt under her gray suit jacket. She slid her identification wallet back into her pocket, then pulled the sunglasses from the top of her head and slipped them into a small front pocket on her briefcase.

Vedichi's dark hair and blue eyes would have looked good on a Hollywood movie screen. He walked over to one of the long sofas that sat in front of the fireplace. He nodded, looking around the rustic room. "I could work here," he said with a smile.

"Sorry, Alex, the FBI doesn't have an office in Tahoe," his partner replied. "Besides, you'd never get any work done. You'd be spending all your time on the slopes."

"And the problem with that would be?" he chuckled. "Hey, the High Mountain Rangers is a Federal Law Enforcement agency. Maybe I'll just transfer. I already know how to ski."

"Do you also know how to ride a horse, rock climb, rappel, ride a snowmobile and a dirt bike?" Another voice asked. Both agents turned to see Jim Hart coming down the stairs. "You also have to know how to make high altitude rescues. Basic first aid is also a requirement."

Foster glanced at her partner, smiling at his embarrassment. "Excuse Agent Vedichi. I often have to help him pull his foot out of his mouth."

"No, I'm sorry," Hart said, raising his hand to stop here. "It's been a trying day, but that's no reason to take it out on you when you've come all this way to help us. It's just that remarks like his are a sore spot for us, when people think our job entails nothing but skiing."

"Sorry," Vedichi said. "Like Toni said, I often talk before my brain engages. Alex Vedichi. My partner is Alex Foster."

"Tim Hart, acting Commander." The trio shook hands and Tim invited them to sit down, while Izzy offered to get them all coffee. Tim was just beginning to give all the information they'd gathered so far when Jesse and Cutler walked in to let him know they were taking off. Tim introduced them to the Agents.

Foster's eyes lingered on Jesse when she heard his name, then she reached into her briefcase. "We may have some information that could pertain to your missing Ranger. It's a long shot, but could be related." She handed the file to Hart. "We have an agent who has been working undercover for the last month, trying to get information on an up-and-coming group, who has been pulling off some robberies in the Reno area. They've recently headed this way, and our agent says they are planning to hit some of the casinos in Tahoe."

"How does this pertain to Matt?" Cutler asked.

"Before I answer that question...Mr. Hawkes, do you remember a man by the name of Martin Guthrie?"

"Guthrie? Sounds familiar, but I can't remember off the top of my head. Why?"

"It would have been during your stint in the U.S. Marshals."

For several seconds no one spoke, until recognition flashed across Jesse's face. "Yes. He was leading a small group of men who were doing a string of robberies across California and Nevada. He fancied himself a crime boss, Mafioso. They started out doing petty crimes, small stuff...convenience stores, liquor stores, never got more than a few hundred dollars," he said, taking the cup of coffee Izzy handed him and sitting on one of the sofas. "Eventually they worked their way up to more lucrative jobs. Hundreds of thousands of dollars per job, doing scams and cons."

Foster nodded. "He stashed away a lot of money we were never able to locate. Likely in Swiss bank accounts or in banks in the Cayman Islands, where we couldn't touch it. Do you remember anything about his last job?"

"Yeah. His group had been growing larger and they'd been getting bolder in the jobs they were pulling. Like you said, larger targets, larger take and started using firearms. The last one, if I remember correctly was a bank. Or actually, three banks at the same time, in different parts of the city. Takeover type robberies. It was a surprise, because he'd never tried to go after banks before."

"You interrupted one?" Vedichi asked.

"Yes, but he wasn't at that bank. He was captured at another bank. But his son was there. He was only eighteen. There was a shootout."

"And the boy died."

"Yes. He came out of the bank, using a female teller as a shield. Sacramento PD had just arrived. Their SWAT unit had already been deployed to one of the other banks. So it was me and about half a dozen patrol officers. I got a shot and I took it."

"But, what does that have to do with Matt being kidnapped?" Cutler asked again.

"Guthrie was released from prison six months ago," Foster said. "That's why our man was undercover. We were trying to see if he would lead us to the money. Mr. Hawkes, do you remember what happened at the trial?"

"Yeah, he threatened to kill me."

"Whoa, do you think he's behind all this?" Hart asked.

"We know he's behind the group that's planning to hit the casinos in Tahoe. We think...and bear it mind, it's just conjecture at this point, our inside man hasn't been able to verify it... but we think he took your Ranger as a diversion."

Cutler spoke up. "Diversion? Why would taking Matt be a diversion?"

"Think about it," Jesse said. "How many officers are actively searching for Matt?"

"Between us, the Sheriff's Deputies from three different counties, State Patrol," Tim began, "about one hundred."

"And who would respond to any problems at the casinos?"

"Douglas County Sheriff, with back up from El Dorado County Sheriff, State Patrol if they're nearby and us if it gets out of hand."

"And considering that we're all looking in the mountains, the response time would be crap," Izzy interjected. The others nodded in agreement.

"So, you think he targeted my son?" Jesse asked the lady agent.

"We haven't been able to determine that. Like I said, most of this is pure conjecture at this point. But Mr. Hawkes, you know Guthrie. Even if he didn't target Matt specifically, he knows by now who he is, since the story of his abduction has been all over the news. If he has him..."

"He'd likely kill him, just to get back at me for killing his son." Jesse said, his worry increasing ten-fold.

/

Across town, four men were in the penthouse suite of the Nugget Casino. Two of the men, Earl Jacobs, better known as Fidget, and Brian Sommers, aka Caveman, were there to receive their payoff and await their next orders. But their boss was changing the game plan.

"Where is he?" Guthrie asked.

"We left him at that abandoned property we told you about," Sommers said.

"Get him and bring him to the house in Truckee. I have plans for him."

"Boss, those Rangers are all over the place out there right now. We'd never get near him," Jacobs reminded him.

"Besides," his partner added, "He's probably dead by now anyway. I mean, he had a bullet in his back and that shed ain't got no heat." He laughed.

Guthrie glared at the two men. "Let me put it to you this way, gentlemen. You don't get paid until Matt Hawkes is delivered to me."

"I don't understand, then why didn't you just have us bring him there in the first place?" Jacobs asked. A second later he was on the floor, courtesy of a backhand from Martin Guthrie.

"You ask an impertinent question like that again, Jacobs, and you'll be the one with a bullet...in your brain!"

"Sorry, boss," Jacobs replied, holding his jaw.

"Mr. Guthrie, ain't the job supposed to happen tonight. I don't think we got time to go get him and be back in time for the job," Sommers said.

"We'll just do without you if you're not back. Get up there and get Hawkes, take him to the house in Truckee. I'll meet you there."

"Okay, boss." Sommers reached down and pulled Jacobs to his feet. "But what about our pay."

Guthrie frowned. "You'll get your pay when I get Matt Hawkes!" he snarled. The two men scurried from the room. Guthrie walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of bourbon. The fourth man in the room watched him as he walked over to the window.

"Mr. Guthrie. I don't mean to question, Sir, but you've always said that any deviation late in the game could mean disaster. I don't know what's going on with this Matt Hawkes guy, but maybe we should postpone the jobs until you finish this thing with him."

"Everything has already been set in motion. We can't change it," Guthrie said, calmer now.

"Can I ask, Sir?"

Guthrie sighed. "Joey, do you remember me telling you about my son, Aaron?"

"Yes, Sir. You said he was murdered just before you did your last stint in prison."

"Yes. He was shot down in the street by a U.S. Marshall."

After several long seconds of silence, Joey asked. "How is this related, Sir?"

"The man who shot my son...was the father of Matt Hawkes."

"I see, Sir. May I be frank, Sir?"

Guthrie smiled and turned to face his second-in-command. "Of course, Joey. Always."

"This is personal, Sir. I just want to be sure it doesn't interfere with the job. A lot of men and women are counting on the payoff on this one."

"I understand, Joey. The job will go on. You know I have only a supervisory position on this one anyway. I'll be at the house in Truckee the whole time. But I may never have a chance like this again. I have to take it."

"Understood, Sir. You want to avenge your son. But Sir, I just don't like it. This is supposed to be a clean job, no complications. A quick in and out for a big payoff. If you turn this into a revenge thing, you'll get the Feds on our tails."

Guthrie laughed. "The Feds will be on our tails anyway, Joey. Anytime you make a big score like this, the FBI gets involved."

"Sir, what do you plan to do to this kid?"

"Same thing that was done to my boy," Guthrie said, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Joey shook his head. "I don't like this. I don't want to be involved in a killing. I've never resorted to that in any of the jobs I've done. I don't plan to go down for it now."

Guthrie laughed. "You won't have to. You won't be here. This is my play and mine alone."

"Sir, I strongly urge you not to kill this Ranger. You want to make him feel some pain, that's one thing, but don't kill him. We can't afford that."

The old man sneered. "If you can't afford to play with the big boys, Joey, maybe you should walk now."

"I've put a lot of work into this job, Sir. I don't intend to walk away from it now. But I won't be a party to no killing."

"I will have my revenge, Joey. Deal with it or walk."

With that, Guthrie turned around and left the room. Joey shook his head and put down his glass. He had a bad feeling that Guthrie's revenge would be the downfall of them all.

/

_Somewhere in Desolation Wilderness_

_Wednesday, 2:00 PM_

Matt stumbled and fell, dropping the large branch he was dragging with him. Panting, he pulled the branch closer then, using it as a crutch, got back to his feet. He pulled himself back over to the large open area behind the shed, where he was attempting to put together and S.O.S. of sorts.

He placed the branch down, completing the 'L' in the word 'HELP'. Closing his eyes briefly, he turned and walked back toward the treeline. Only one more letter to go, he thought, hoping he would be able to stay conscious, and on his feet, long enough to finish it. He knew in his heart that his fellow Rangers, and likely his father and brother, were already looking for him. And he was determined to do everything he could to help them find him. He had enough medical knowledge to know that his injuries were severe enough that he'd never be able to walk out on his own.

He also knew, that if he didn't receive medical treatment soon, he'd die on this mountain.

And for Matt Hawkes, that just wasn't an option. So he trudged slowly back to the trees and searched for another long branch that he could use to make the final letter of his message in the snow. He found one and slowly dragged his body toward it. Bracing himself against a convenient tree, he leaned over and grasped the branch, using it to push himself upright again.

He took a deep breath and began his trek back to complete his message.

/

Izzy jumped at the sound of the phone ringing. "Shit!" He reached for the phone. "High Mountain Rangers, Flowers speaking."

Tim and Robin didn't pay attention to the one-sided conversation, since it was only one of many calls they'd been receiving all day. Some were just offering sympathy and prayers, some obscure information that was being followed up by the Sheriff or Highway Patrol, and some...well, given how things had been going, if something to pan out soon, they just might have to re-contact that psychic who called.

"Are you sure?... How far from you again?...What did the vehicle looked like?" Izzy voice rose in timber, catching Hart's attention. He exchanged a glance with Robin, then they both moved toward Izzy's desk. "Right...got it...uh huh...right...good...two men you said...right...okay...thanks Mr. Horton...yes, we'll get right on it...I'm sure someone will be up to talk to you sometime today...and thank you!"

Izzy dropped the phone back down and smiled. "Hart!" he yelled, not realizing the others were standing right in front of him.

"What is it, Izzy?"

"Shit!" he yelped, dropping the pad of paper back on the desk. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

"The call?" Hart reminded him.

"Oh! That was Mr. Horton, he lives about twenty miles up the old fire service road number fourteen in Desolation. He said he just heard about what happened and thinks something he saw yesterday might be related. He was out checking his rabbit traps, and was over near the old Purdy property?"

"I know it. It burned down seven, eight years ago. Family of four died in the fire. Only one to survive was a ten-year boy who had gone to a shed on the property. He was making something for his mom's birthday, fell asleep in the shed."

"Really? How sad," Izzy remarked, shaking his head.

"Iz? What exactly does this have to do with Matt?" Robin asked.

"Well, like I said, he was out checking his rabbit traps yesterday and saw a vehicle drive up toward the old Purdy property just about dusk. Thought it was strange being so late, but figured it was a Realtor, said he figured Purdy's brother finally decided to sell the place. Thing is, he said they were only there about five minutes. He heard the doors open, then sounded like someone went into the shack, then the doors slammed shut again and the car drove off. Thought it was kinda strange to go all that way and not look around the place."

"Maybe they just figured to come back in the morning, when it was light," Robin suggested.

Hart pondered that. "If that was the case, why bother driving all the way up there at all that late in the day? Why not just wait until morning?"

"Could be they didn't realize how far it really was."

"Maybe, but at this point, I'm willing to take anything. See if Frank can swing by there and take a look. There's a fair sized meadow not far from where the house was, he should be able to set down there and check it out."

"Right," Izzy said, reaching for the radio.

/

"Roger that base, we'll swing over that way and check it out. It's in the area of our next grid anyway," Frank said.

"Do you think it might have something to do with Matt?" Cody asked, hopefully.

"I hope so, Code. Cuz I gotta tell you, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"You don't think we'll find him, do you?"

Frank glanced at Cody, and saw the desperation on his face, the silent wish for Frank to contradict him. "I think that Matthew Hawkes is a strong, tough, intelligent man who will do everything in his power to escape. And the High Mountain Rangers, with an assist from the rest of the Hawkes clan, will do everything in our power to find him. And together we won't be beat."

Cody smiled and nodded, determination back. "Thanks, Frank."

Avila winked and banked the helicopter to head toward their destination.

/

_Somewhere in Desolation Wilderness_

_Wednesday, 4:00 PM_

"This is stupid!" Jacobs shouted.

"Shut the hell up! We ain't gotta choice!"

"Damn it. If he wanted this guy why didn't he just say so. But no, he tells us to dump him somewhere in the mountains! Now we have to go all the way back up there and get him again and take him to Truckee. It's a waste of time. He's probably already dead!"

"If he is, we're carting his body back! If Mr. Guthrie wants to see this Ranger dude, then he's gonna see this Ranger dude! Now shut the fuck up!" Sommers gripped the wheel tighter, wanting to reach out and smack the little man beside him, but not wanting to lose traction on the snow-covered road.

"We're gonna get caught, Brian, I can feel it in my bones!"

"Earl, if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm gonna leave you up there at the shack to freeze to death!"

Jacobs shut up, but still fumed, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't sure if the shiver that went down his spine was from the thought of being left in this god-forsaken place or the thought of the High Mountain Rangers dogging his ass for the rest of his life.

Thirty minutes later they pulled up by the shed. Sommers cursed when he spotted the 'help' sign lying in the snow. "Looks like our little Ranger ain't quite dead yet!" he growled, tromping toward the shed, Joey following close behind him. Sommers slammed open the door.

"Well, looks like that sign didn't do him no good. Let's get him in the truck." He reached down and pulled Matt to a sitting position, Joey hurrying over to grab the other arm. They manhandled the once-again-unconscious Ranger out the door and carried him over to their vehicle. They shoved him into the bed of the pickup, than tied down the tarp that covered the bed.

"What about his little sign, Bri?"

Sommers smiled. "Leave it. Even if they find it now, it won't do them any good."

Jacobs nodded and both men climbed into the truck and drove away.

/

Twenty minutes later, Frank was hovering over a burned out building, a small shed and Matt's S.O.S. in the snow.

"Call it in, Cody, I'll put us down."

Cody quickly picked up the radio mic. "High Mountain Ranger base, this is Ace!"

"Go ahead Ace."

"We're over the location now. Izzy, there's a 'help' sign in the snow! We're going down to take a look."

"Roger that, Ace! I'll let Hart know."

The two in the chopper heard Izzy radio Hart and advise him of the situation, and then call Cutler and Jesse to start that way on their snowmobiles. It would take about ten minutes to get there, but Jesse would want to be there if Matt was found.

Frank gently set the helicopter down and cut the motor. He and Cody disembarked and headed for the shed, both with rifles at the ready. They circled the shed from opposite directions, meeting at the door. Avila glanced at Cody, who nodded his readiness. Frank slowly pushed open the door. When nothing happened, he swung around the doorframe, rifle leading the way. Cody moved in behind him.

Empty. Nothing inside but dust and spiderwebs.

Cody's shoulders slumped and his eyes teared up. Frank reached out and put a hand on Cody's shoulder, squeezing gently before he walked back outside. Cody joined him, reaching down to pick something up from the ground. He groaned.

"Cody?"

"He was here, Frank," he said, his voice breaking.

Avila took the item from his hand. Flipping the wristwatch over, he read the inscription on the back. "To Matt, Congratulations. Love, Mom".

"Sorry, Cody. I found some vehicle tracks. They look less than an hour old."

"So we missed him?" Cody asked in despair.

"Easy, Cody. If they came and got him, he's still alive. They probably would have left him otherwise. Let's get back in the air and follow the road. We might spot the vehicle."

Cody nodded, but really didn't feel any better. One hour. One short hour.

The two men were alerted by the sounds of the snowmobiles and turned to see Cutler and Jesse pulling up next to the shed.

"Anything?" Jesse asked.

"No, but he was here," Frank said, giving Jesse the watch.

The elder Hawkes turned in over and read the inscription, his heart racing. He briefly closed his eyes, leaning against the shed, when he saw the blood on the band. "Anything to tell us where he is now?"

"No, but I saw some tracks. Vehicle was here, looks likes in the last hour or so. Cody and I are gonna get back in the air, follow them down and see if we can find them."

"Go! Cutler and I will search the area. Just to make sure he didn't make it to the woods."

"C'mon, Cody!" Frank called, hurrying toward the bird.

Cody moved to follow him, but stopped when his father grabbed his arm. Jesse turned to Cutler, gesturing toward Avila. Jim nodded and headed over to the helicopter to update Frank on the information about Guthrie.

Jesse turned back to his son. "We'll find him, son."

"We only missed him by an hour, Dad. Maybe less," Cody said, his voice cracking.

"Son, look over there," Jesse said, pointing toward the branches in the snow. "That means your brother was still alive and making every effort to let us know where he is. He won't stop."

Cody nodded. "An hour, Dad."

"I know, boy. I know." He pulled Cody into a quick hug. "Now, get up there. Looks like Frank's ready to go. It takes awhile to get down the hill in this kind of weather. You still have a chance. GO!"

Cody nodded and hurried away.

Cutler rejoined Jesse. "What now?"

"Now we search. Walk the treeline, all around the clearing, see if there is any indication that Matt got away before that vehicle got here. If he was awake and heard them coming, he probably would have tried to move into the trees."

Both men headed for the trees, Jesse stopping to look into the shed. It was dark inside, the dirty windows not allowing much light. But there was enough for him to see the dark brown stains, evidence of this son's blood, on the floor and the wall next to the door. He closed his hand tightly around the watch, before sliding it into his coat pocket, trying to assure himself he'd return it to his son when they found him.

/

*****warning-some torture of our favorite blond ranger here, please by-pass if this makes you squeamish**********

_House in Truckee, CA_

_Wednesday, 6:00 PM_

Matt didn't make as sound as he was dragged in and dropped on the floor, face down. Martin Guthrie gathered up his drink and stood over the unconscious Ranger. He moved his foot, pressing it against Matt's ribs. When he got no response, he reached back and kicked. Still not getting a response, he crouched down and grabbed a handful of blond hair, pulling up Matt's head to look at his face.

Letting Matt's head drop once again to the floor, he turned to the other two men in the room. "Jacobs, grab the scissors from the top drawer of my desk. Sommers, put that fireplace poker into the fire." When he got the scissors, Guthrie cut through the material of Matt's sweater, laying his back bare, to expose the bullet wound. Glancing at the glass of whiskey in is hand, he reached out and pour it over the obviously infected wound.

Slight movement showed him that his prisoner was feeling pain. He smiled. Walking over to a cabinet on the wall, he pulled out a long narrow box. Moving back toward the man laying on the floor, he glanced at his two lackeys.

"Did I ever tell you boys I spent time in the military?"

"No, Sir," Sommers answered for them both.

"Yes. I was a field medic. I've done my share of bullet extraction."

Sommers and Jacobs exchanged looks, then Sommers addressed his boss again. "Ah, boss, I thought you were gonna, like, kill him. Why bother taking out the bullet?"

"Well, we don't want him to die too fast, now do we?" The man's laugh sent chills down the spines of the two men. Both would be glad to finally leave this room. "Come over here and hold him down, just in case he wakes during his surgery." Guthrie laid the box down on the floor and opened the lid. He removed a pair of long, metal tweezers. "I usually use these for working with my stamp collection. I do believe this will be a more worthy cause."

Saying nothing more, he shoved the tweezers into the hole in Matt's back and started feeling around. Matt hissed and jerked, trying to move away, while Sommers and Jacobs easily held him still. After a full minute, Guthrie stopped. "Ah, there we are." He slowly pulled the tweezers from Matt's back, the ends clutching a deformed piece of metal. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he dropped the spent bullet into it, and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"That will make a nice memento of this historic day, gentlemen. Now, we should give the patient some medicine against further infection, shall we?" Tossing down the bloody tweezers, he stood and walked over to the bar, picking up his bottle of whiskey. Moving back to the man lying on the floor he poured half the bottle over the once again bleeding wound.

Matt groaned, making Guthrie smile. "So sad we had no anesthetic for the poor boy." Laughing, he put the bottle to his lips and took a healthy swig. Still carrying the bottle, he moved over to the fireplace, pulling the poker from the fire, the tip now red-hot.

"Gotta stop the bleeding, right boys?"

"Sure, Mr. Guthrie," Jacobs said nervously.

"Hold him." The two men once again got a grip on the Ranger. Silently, Guthrie shoved to heated metal into the bullet wound, nonchalantly taking another drink from the bottle as he did.

Matt screamed, writhing on the ground, then slumped back into unconsciousness.

"Move him over to that chair and tie him up," Guthrie ordered.

Jacobs and Sommers pulled the Ranger off the floor and dragged him to an upright chair next to the fireplace. While Sommers held him in place, Jacobs ran to get rope from the garage, quickly returning to lash their prisoner to the chair, making sure the ropes were tied at both arms and legs and around his chest to keep him in the chair.

Guthrie smiled and nodded toward the large mahogany desk across the room.

"Your payment is in the envelope. Be sure you make it to the meet with Joey."

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir," Sommers said, noting that there was double the amount in the envelope than they'd originally been promised. He nudged Jacobs and the two men quickly left the room.

Guthrie walked over to face his prisoner. "Well, Mr. Mathew Hawkes. You must be the unluckiest bastard on the planet. You're about to pay for your father's mistake." The big man reached back his beefy hand and slapped it against Matt's face, frowning at the lack of response. "Yes, you and I are about to get very well aquatinted. But first you need to wake up. But I'm sure I can figure out a way to bring you around," he said. "I can be very creative with the right motivation."

He settled into a plush chair across from Matt. He was willing to wait. After all, he'd waited nearly thirty years. A few more hours would be nothing compared to that. And he would finally have vengeance for his son. He only wished Jesse Hawkes would be here to watch.

/

_Ranger Station_

_Wednesday, 6:15 PM_

"Okay. We just received word from our informant," Vedichi said, walking into the room. "He was able to get a quick text message out that the robberies are set to go tonight. They plan to hit these three casinos."

He walked over to a large white erase board set up in front of the fireplace. The names of the three casinos were written across the top. Under each name was a list of which officers would be assigned to each.

The room was filled with High Mountain Rangers, Sheriff's Deputies, Nevada and California State Patrol Officers, and a dozen FBI agents. Some were in uniform but most wore plainclothes, as they would be posing as guests. Fifty officers were scattered around a room that used to feel so large, but now was downright claustrophobic.

"We've notified the owners and security chiefs of each casino. The three gentlemen in the back are the security reps for each of the casinos. They are quietly beefing up their security and we will have plainclothes units in each also."

"It's short notice, something is bound to go wrong," Mike McBride groused.

"We're all professionals, Sheriff," Foster said. "We'll just have to make do."

"What about Guthrie?" Jesse asked.

"Our man doesn't think he'll actually be on site." Foster posted a photo of a middle aged, dark headed man on the board. "Guthrie did the planning, with this man, Joey Fletcher. He is the one likely to be in charge on the ground. Although we're not sure which casino he'll be handling."

"Do we know where Guthrie is?" one of the troopers asked.

"The High Mountain Rangers are working on that," Tim Hart replied. "Since Matt is one of ours, we're taking the lead on finding him, and the information we have is that Matt is now in Guthrie's hands. We haven't been able to find any property purchased or rented by Guthrie in the Lake Tahoe area. Currently, we're running the names of all of his recent known associates to see if any property might be listed under those names. No luck so far, but we just started."

For the next hour, the FBI agents and other law enforcement officers discussed plans, and contingency plans in case something went wrong. Since the Rangers would stay out of the casino robbery bust, the FBI was taking the lead on that. Which was just fine with the Rangers, since they were more concerned with finding their friend than worrying about how much money some casino might lose.

/

_Truckee, CA_

_Wednesday, 7:30 PM_

The first thing that registered in his brain was warmth. He'd been cold for so long, he'd doubted he would ever be warm again. The second thing that registered was the pain. He tried to lift his hand to his aching head, but it wouldn't move. Slowly opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was a muted burgundy rug. He blinked and moved his eyes around the room, lifting his head slightly. A large stone fireplace sat to his right, fire blazing behind the wrought iron grate.

Again he tried to lift his hand, only to be thwarted again. He moved his eyes, attempting to understand why his arm wouldn't cooperate. It took him several seconds to recognize the rope that wrapped around his wrist was the reason he couldn't move. Moving his heavy head the other direction, he found that both wrists were tied down.

_That's not good_, he thought. Suddenly a flash of light blinded him. He cried out and slammed his eyes shut, the flash causing the pain in his head to flare up until he felt like someone was pounding against his skull with a hammer.

"Welcome back, Mr. Hawkes. Excuse the flash, but I need to be sure I have this moment captured for posterity. And besides, since this will be your last day breathing, I thought your father might just like a small momento to remember you by."

Guthrie took several more photos, then moved over to his desk and booted up a laptop computer. He downloaded the photos, then pulled up his mail. A few more keystrokes and the photo he'd chosen was on its way.

/

_Ranger Station _

_Wednesday, 7:45 PM_

Robin sat back, rubbing her eyes. If she had to read one more on-line real estate listing, she was going to go blind. Then she remembered she was reading them and dived back into the search. She was interrupted by a short melodic tone, which indicated new email.

Moving the mouse, she minimized the current screen and pulled up the email. She didn't recognize the sender's address, but they'd been receiving multiple citizen tips on the Ranger's email site and they had to check out every one.

"Oh God!" she cried, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

"What is it, Robin?" Hart asked as he rushed over. She just looked at him, a look of horror crossing her face. Hart moved behind the desk and glanced at the computer screen. "Hell! Foster!"

Toni moved quickly to see what had upset them both. She briefly closed her eyes and then turned to her partner. "Alex, get over here. See if you can trace this email!" She pulled Robin up out of the chair and Alex slid into the seat.

"Oh, Christ!" he said, getting a glimpse of the photo, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Seconds later a copy of the email spat out of the printer, in full living color.

Jim Cutler was standing next to the printer and pulled the sheet from the tray, curious to see what had caused such a reaction. He turned it around and groaned. He glanced around the room, glad that Jesse and Cody had decided to get out for a little bit and had offered to do the lunch run.

Across the top it read:

An Eye for an Eye; A Son for a Son

Say goodbye Hawkes

He won't be breathing by the end of the day

Underneath the words was a color photo of Matt Hawkes. He was tied to a chair at wrists and ankles, and a rope was wrapped around his bare chest. The left side of his face appeared swollen and red. Over his right eye, a large cut appeared to be covered with dried blood. There were also several bruises on his chest and abdomen.

"At least he looks like he's still alive," Jim muttered.

"Depending on when the photo was taken," Robin said, having calmed down from the shock of seeing the photo.

"Do we show it to Jesse when he gets back?"

"I'll handle that," Hart said. "I want to pull him aside so Cody doesn't see it." He took the paper from Cutler and slid it into his pocket.

"Damn it!" Alex cried out, slamming his hand down on the desk. "No luck, Toni, sorry."

Foster placed her hand on Vedichi's shoulder. "Thanks for trying, Alex." She sighed. "I'm of the opinion that Matt is still alive. Guthrie will want to draw this out. I'd venture to guess we'll get more of these over the course of the day. Only thing we can do is keep searching."

"Get more of what?"

They all turned to find Jesse and Cody standing in the doorway behind them, holding several bags loaded with Chinese food.

"We need to talk, Jesse," Hart said.

Hawkes nodded, turning over his bags to Izzy. He turned to his son. "Go help Izzy, son."

"But, Dad..."

"Don't argue, boy." Jesse placed his hand around the back of Cody's neck. "Let me talk to Tim. I won't keep anything from you, but let me talk to him first."

Cody nodded and following Flowers into the kitchen.

Hart followed Jesse into Matt's office and closed the door.

"Tim, just tell me. Did you find him?"

"No, not yet. But we've had contact," he said, pulling the email from his pocket and handing it over.

Jesse took it and after staring at the photo for several long seconds, he abruptly sat down in Matt's chair. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, taking several deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Jesse. I'm hoping that this is proof he's still alive, but..."

"But there's no way to know when the photo was taken."

Hart nodded. "Agent Foster seems to think we'll get more of these throughout the day."

"We probably will. He'll want to taunt me. And likely, he'll do a bit more damage to Matt each time." Jesse rubbed his eyes. "I have to believe he's still alive, Tim. I think I'd know if he wasn't." He swiveled around and gazed out the window at his beloved mountains. Somewhere in those mountains his oldest son was in the hands of an angry monster.

"We won't stop looking, Jesse. Toni and Alex are getting ready to leave with the others. If we don't get some information before they make the bust, she assured me that Matt will be the first order of business during interrogations."

Jesse nodded. "Could you...could ask Cody to come in here."

"Sure Jesse," Hart said, leaving the room.

Less than a minute later, Jesse's youngest walked in the room, closing the door behind him. His father sat behind the desk, staring out the window. Cody swallowed and moved over to the window.

"Is he dead?" he asked quietly, his voice trembling.

"We don't know. But we got confirmation that he's being held."

At Cody's inquisitive look, Jesse handed him the email. A hitched breath signaled Cody's distress. His knees buckled and he slid to the floor. Pulling his knees up, he buried his face in his arms, crumpling the paper in his fist. Jesse slid down to his knees and placed a hand on Cody's head, giving his son time to come to grips with this latest development. Cody took several deep breaths, then lifted is head. He uncrumpled the paper and spread it across his thighs, tracing his fingers across his brother's face in the photo.

"We'll find you, Matt," he whispered. "I'm not ready to lose my big brother yet." He looked up at his father. Jesse nodded and stood, holding out his hand. Cody reached up, grasped Jesse hand, and allowed himself to be pulled up. Jesse wrapped his arms around Cody and pulled him close.

"I'm proud of you, boy."

Cody returned the hug, then patted his dad on the back and the pair headed back out into the main room to get back to work.

/

WARNING ****again, some torture of Matt in this chapter, skip if you don't like that ******

_House in Truckee, CA_

_Wednesday, 9:00 PM_

Matt's scream reverberated off the walls of the wood-lined study, his body taut against the ropes as he tried to retreat from the burning in his chest.

"You don't seem to be enjoying the wonderful aroma of this tobacco, boy," Guthrie said, as he pulled the red-hot cigar away from Matt's skin, leaving behind a circular burn about the size of a quarter. It joined a half dozen others dotting his chest and arms.

Matt panted, trying to catch his breath and slumped back down in the chair. He was only about half aware of what was happening, fighting not just the pain, but the infection ravaging his body from the gunshot wound. He knew this man had some kind of vendetta against his father, but his mind was only registering about half of what the man said. He'd seen no one else in the room since he'd regained consciousness to find himself tied to the chair, but he knew this man had not been one of the men that had taken him from the station. He had no inkling of what day it was, or how long he'd been held captive. But he did know that his fellow Rangers and his father were looking for him. If only he lived long enough for them to find him.

He watched the man walking around the room. He was about sixty years old, tall and stocky, with a shock of red hair, just turning gray at the temples. He had large hands, one of which grasped the tool of Matt's torture, the other held a glass of amber liquid that Matt assumed was alcohol. He'd sip at the drink between sessions with the cigar. Periodically, he'd walk over to the mantel and pick up a framed photogragh, asking the man in the photo if he was enjoying the 'show'. He'd smile at the photo, then gently place it back on the mantel, before turning back to his prisoner with a smile more evil than Matt could remember ever seeing. He tried not to let the fear show in his face.

"You're a handsome boy, Mathew Hawkes. Not as handsome as my boy, of course," he said, gesturing toward the photo on the mantel. "But nonetheless, a nice looking boy. Too bad you won't be so nice looking once I'm through with you. They may just have to have a closed casket."

Matt swallowed hard, but was able to keep from looking away from Guthrie's glare, which seemed to amuse the old man. Once he turned back toward the fireplace, Matt let out a quiet breath and briefly closed his eyes. He tested the bonds around his wrists, hoping he'd be able to free at least one arm before the man decided to kill him.

/

_Ranger Station_

_Wednesday, 10:30 PM_

Over the last two hours, five more photos were emailed to the Ranger station, each one showing an increasing level of violence toward Matt Hawkes. The most recent photos showed increased bruising on his upper body and several long lacerations on his chest and arms. His left eye was swollen shut; in fact the entire left side of his face was puffy and discolored. Guthrie's photos were close-ups and showed every little mark on Matt's body.

Agent Vedichi had tried to narrow the search area by following the emails back to their starting point, but each one dad originated from a different email address, using a different server. Whoever had set up the system knew what they were doing.

He couldn't determine if Guthrie was continually moving around, or if he was sending the photos to different locations and having them re-sent to the Ranger station. Hell, he could have just had multiple computers. It wasn't like he didn't have the cash to do that. And if they were wireless, he might never be able to track them down.

Alex had decided to stay at the station and assist with the search rather than go along on the casino busts. He'd contacted a couple of local computer geeks, who had come in with some equipment that even Alex hadn't seen before. Of course that wasn't all that unusual. Sometimes government agencies were the last ones to see that type of technology. The men, both just barely out of their teens, were currently hunched down under the desk, attaching the Ranger's computer to half a dozen other pieces of equipment.

Jesse stood back watching it all, shaking his head and wondering when the world had left him behind. He hoped the station had enough electrical power to handle all the new equipment. Cody was sitting on the floor behind the two young men, firing question after question at them, wanting to understand everything they were doing. They explained everything to him, even as they continued to work.

Cody seemed fascinated by the operation and Jesse knew the boy was counting on that equipment to find his brother. Jesse wasn't so sure. He liked to rely on good, old-fashioned brainpower...but then, he wasn't about to discount anything that would get them closer to finding Matt. He began to pace. He hated just waiting around for something to happen. He, like his son Matt, was more of an action guy. He would have preferred to be out on the mountain looking for his eldest, but until they could pinpoint a place to look, he was forced to bide his time. Time that was quickly running out for his boy.

/

******once more, continued torture of our boy-yes, I know...but it's almost over*****

_House in Truckee, CA_

_Wednesday, 10:30 PM_

Matt grunted as the fist slammed into his stomach, the blow sucking the breath out of him. He tried to double over, but the rope around his chest prevented that. He felt the muscles cramp. Before he could think about that, the fist slammed into his jaw, smashing his head against the back of the chair. His vision blurred and he prayed he'd pass out. He heard someone panting like they'd run a marathon, but he was so disoriented he couldn't tell if it was him or the old man. 'Hmph. Old man. For a guy of sixty or so, he sure could pack a punch,' Matt thought.

He heard, more than saw, the man walked toward the fireplace once again. It was difficult to see out of either eye now and his entire face felt numb. He knew he's lost several teeth and was surprised the man hadn't yet broken his jaw. Guthrie came back over and began to remove the boots from Matt's feet. The Ranger tried to pull away, but tied to a chair and in as much pain as he was in, the effort was futile. After a moment, it just didn't matter any more.

Suddenly, the bottom of his right foot was on fire. He jerked back, causing the chair to teeter. Guthrie caught it before it could fall over.

Chuckling, he righted the chair again. "Boy, show some gratitude here. I'm trying to warm your feet up."

"Burn 'em," Matt slurred, the damage to his mouth making it difficult to talk.

"Well, I wanted to get the embers as close to your foot as possible, to get the maximum amount of heat," he laughed. "Here, let's try again."

Once more, Matt felt the burning heat of the ember pressed against the bottom of his foot.

"Ahhh! Stop!"

"The bottom of the foot is a sensitive part of the body, isn't it boy? But don't worry, this will feel like a feather touch once I work the rest of the way up your body."

Confused, at first Matt didn't know what the man was talking about. Then he felt the man cutting away the material of his ski pants. 'Nooooo!" his mind screamed. He jerked his body, trying to get away from the man, who just laughed as he continued to cut both pants legs up to the lower thigh. He stopped there, but it took several moments before Matt realized it. He was panting hard, his chest heaving and tears of pain rolling down his swollen cheeks. Guthrie cut the bottom of the pants off at the knee, tossing the material behind him. He saw the scar that ran along the kneecap on Matt's left knee.

"Seems you've had problems with this leg in the past, Mathew. Did it hurt?" When Matt didn't reply, Guthrie looked up. "I asked you a question, boy. I expect an answer."

"Fu' you," Matt managed. His head snapped back when the old man's hand connected with his face.

"Still got some sass in you, do you boy? I'll take care of that."

Guthrie walked over to his gun cabinet, reaching in to pull out a sheath. As he moved back toward the captive Ranger, he slid a long bladed knife from the leather. Coming up behind Matt, he moved the knife in front of Matt's face, startling the younger man. He moved the blade down to Matt's throat, running the back of the blade across his neck.

Matt pushed back in the chair, attempting to move his neck away from the blade, knocking Guthrie off his feet. Angry, the older man jumped to his feet and slammed the knife into the back of Matt's right shoulder.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Matt screamed. Guthrie ripped the knife out of Matt's shoulder. Grabbing a handful of blond hair, he yanked back, then moved the knife in front of Matt's face, the blood dripping from the blade and trickling down Matt's chest. He lowered the blade and cut a slice across his captive's chest. The cut was long and deep.

"The next one slices your throat!" he growled.

"Go 'head...kill me any'ay," Matt said.

"Yes, I will. But the more you fight me, the more pain you'll feel."

A sound forced its way out of Matt's throat. At first Guthrie thought he was choking, then realized the boy was laughing.

"You find pain funny, Mathew? You surprise me. I didn't realize you enjoyed it so much."

"No' 'njoy," he groan, relaxing his neck. "almos' dead, just kill..."

"Oh, no, Mathew. You are far from being dead. And I'm far from finished with you."

"..'ill kill you."

"What was that Mathew?"

"He 'ill kill you."

"Who?"

"Rangers."

Guthrie chuckled. "Your Rangers are no match for me and my men."

"Dad."

"Ah, your father. I do hope that your dear father shows up. In fact, maybe I'll give him a call, let him hear you scream. Let him hear you die." He nodded. "Yes, I think I like that idea, Mathew. Let's give him a treat, shall we?"

/

_Ranger Station_

_Wednesday, 10:50 PM_

Tim Hart had sent his Rangers to grab some sleep. Alex Vedichi and the two computer experts were going back over the emails, trying to trace them back. And having no luck. Jesse and Cody were crashed on the sofa. Jesse was awake, sitting at one end of the couch, Cody lying with his head on Jesse's thigh. Both looked haggard and worn out. Jesse's hand absent-mindedly stroke through Cody's hair and staring into the fire.

Jesse had called his ex-wife earlier in the night. She was visiting her family in Tempe, Arizona and he was able to persuade her not to fly back until he'd contacted her again. He had not gone into detail about the correspondence they'd been getting from Guthrie. In fact, he hadn't mentioned Guthrie at all.

Jackie Hawkes had always hated Jessie's involvement in the High Mountain Rangers and was disappointed, and angry, when their son had followed in his father's footsteps. If she were to discover that Matt had been kidnapped by a man out for revenge against Jesse, well the proverbial defecation would hit the cooling apparatus, to put it nicely. It was bad enough that Cody was aware of the situation that Matt was in. But there was no way he could lie to his youngest son, especially not to his face. The boy had an uncanny knack for weeding out a lie. He was better than any polygraph, at least where Jesse was concerned.

The quiet of the night was shattered by the ringing phone. Hart jumped up and grabbed it on the second ring, hoping to avoid waking Cody. He saw that he was unsuccessful when the boy sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"High Mountain Rangers, Hart speaking."

"Ah, Ranger Hart. I wish to speak with Jesse Hawkes please."

"Who is this?"

A soft chuckled floating into his ear. "I think you know, Ranger Hart. Now, get Hawkes on the phone or I kill the boy now. Oh, and Ranger Hart, don't bother trying a trace, we won't be on the phone that long. And in any case, it's a cloned cellphone."

Hart looked at Jesse and held out the phone. Warily, the retired Ranger got up and took the receiver from Tim's hand. Hart gave him a quiet look and trotted over to wake up Alex Vedichi, who was slouched back in a chair by the fire. A short whispered conversation had Alex racing toward the computer.

Jesse raised the receiver to his ear. "Hello."

"Hawkes, so we meet again...so to speak."

"Guthrie."

"Ah, I see my reputation proceeds me. I have something you want, Hawkes."

"Let my boy go, Guthrie. This is between you and me."

"On the contrary. This is between the four of us. You, me, Mathew and Aaron. We need to even the balance sheets."

"Fine. Tell me where to meet you and I'll come. You kill me and let my boy go."

"Dad," Cody gasped.

Jesse waved a hand, silently telling Cody to be quiet. Tim moved over to sit down beside the youngest Hawkes, hoping to keep him calm.

"Oh, Hawkes, if only it was that easy. You know, I'm actually quite impressed with your boy. He's tougher than I thought he'd be. He manages pain very well. Well, at least in the beginning. But after awhile, I guess he's just been worn down."

"If you..."

"If I hurt him? Now, Jesse...can I call you Jesse? I feel like I know you so well...anyway, you know it's far beyond 'hurt' already. Oh, but wait...since this is a kidnapping, I'm guessing you want proof that dear Mathew is still alive. Let me put him on."

"Dad?" the quiet voice came over the line.

"Matt!" Jesse breathed out. "Oh, son. We're looking for you, boy. We're looking, don't doubt that. We'll find you."

A grunt signaled the end of the conversation and Guthrie came back on the line.

"So, you know he's still alive. If he stays that way is up to you. You have six hours. And just to give you some incentive..."

The next sound was a bloodcurdling scream that could be heard across the room, followed by the sound of evil laughter just before the phone disconnected. The phone dropped from Jesse's hand as he realized that scream came from his son.

/

_Nugget Casino_

_Wednesday, 11:00 PM_

Toni Foster was watching the security monitors, her eyes moving back and forth between the monitors and the photos in her hand. They had mug shots of several of Guthrie's known team and everyone available was keeping an eye out for them. Some, like Foster, were in the security office. Others were walking the floor, posing as both tourists and staff.

Her perusal was interrupted when her cellphone vibrated in her pocket. Without taking eyes from the screen, she pulled to phone from her jacket and flipped it open.

"Foster...hey, Alex...When?!" She stood up and began pacing the room, grabbing the attention of everyone around her. "Oh my God. How is Jesse? ...I can imagine...Were you able to narrow it down?...Damn! He knows what he's doing. Or at least, someone on his team does..." One of the security guards across the room waved his hand to get her attention. "Hang on, Alex."

She walked toward the guard, who pointed at his screen. "Alright, people, looks like the show is on," she said, seeing two of the men they'd been watching for." Pulling the phone back up to her ear, she said, "Alex, sorry, looks like it's going down here. Do whatever you need to there, pull in whatever help you need. I'll call you back when we're done...We'll keep as many of them alive as we can...I am not letting that Ranger die if I can do anything to prevent it. Gotta go."

She flipped the phone shut, then slid it back into her pocket, pulling out her radio with the other hand and keying it up. "Heads up, boys and girls. Jacobs just walked in with Fletcher, followed by another male who might be the male we know has been seen before with Jacobs. Two other suspicious subjects came in about twenty steps behind them...number one is a white male, thirty-five, six-two, brown shirt, blue jeans... number two is Hispanic male, same age and height, blue shirt, black jeans. Remember we need them to make their move before we snatch them up."

Walking out the door, followed by seven members of the security team, she kept up her instructions. "Secondary team, as soon as they are in the room, grab any lookouts and start moving the public out of the room. Quiet as you can, folks. No need alerting the guys on the inside if we can avoid it." She made sure the teams in the other casinos were aware and headed down toward the backroom where the majority of the casino money was counted prior to being delivered to the bank.

/

Guthrie stood over the unconscious body of Matt Hawkes. He'd told the boy's father that he'd been impressed by the amount of pain his son had been able to endure. And he hadn't been lying. The boy was tougher than he'd thought he'd be. The last round had caused the Ranger Commander to finally tip over in the chair and he currently lay on his right side, still tethered to the chair.

Guthrie sighed and shook his head as he looked at the blood that speckled the rug. "Mathew, Mathew, Mathew. You have ruined a perfectly good Persian Rug. I may just have to send Daddy a bill for that. Do you think he'll be able to afford it on his retirement pension?"

Seeing that he wouldn't be getting a response from his captive anytime soon, he walked back over to his camera and took a few more photos, then sat down behind his desk to prepare them to send to Jesse Hawkes. He was enjoying this game, but a glance at the clock told him that his time was running short. He sent another email, then settled back in his chair. Looking around, he felt some regret that he would have to leave the house. The death of Matthew Hawkes would not allow him to stay in the area. But then, his old bones didn't much like cold weather anymore anyway. Somewhere warm would be his next destination. Maybe some South Pacific island, with a white sandy beach and plenty of scantily clad native girls who wouldn't be adverse to cozying up to an old man with money.

Yes, he would miss this house. But he would just have to build one bigger and better on whatever warm beach he relocated to. Looking back at the young man on the floor, he debated whether he should just leave the body here for the housekeeper to find or take it with him, so Jesse Hawkes would forever wonder what happened to his son. Maybe he'd take it with him and periodically send back pieces, he thought with a smile. But then, that would be a bit impractical. Kind of hard to get a dead body through customs after all. He chuckled and took another sip of his whiskey. Another quick glance at his watch had him hoping that Joey called soon. He wanted to get this night over with and be on his way out of the country.

/

Three casinos were hit at the same time, all covered by the local authorities with an assist from the FBI. The busts went down with little gunfire. A couple of the men had fired some shots, but once they determined that the odds were about five to one, they quickly surrendered. One Deputy had been hit in the left shoulder, and two suspects were wounded.

Toni Foster sized up each of the suspects after they'd all been transferred to the local sheriff's office, trying to determine which ones she might get some information from. Finally, she settled on one and directed him to be brought to the interrogation room where she could talk to him.

"Hello, Joey."

"Agent Foster. What a pleasure."

"Not for you. Have a seat."

Joey sat down, lacing his hands together, cuffs jingling on each wrist. The deputy that brought him in settled into a chair next to the door.

"So, Miss FBI lady, what brings you to Tahoe? The fresh air?"

Toni smiled. "No, Joey, sorry to say I'm not on vacation. I'm looking for your boss."

"Boss? I got no boss."

"Joey, you know you're going down for this robbery."

"Maybe. I got me a good lawyer now, ya know."

"I can imagine. But do you really think your lawyer will get you a good deal if you're charge with the murder of a law enforcement officer?"

"What murder? I don't know anything about a murder."

"Joey, I'm gonna be real serious here. If Guthrie kills that Ranger, you will be an accomplice. The murder of a law enforcement officer is a capital offense. And since he's a federal officer, it'll be a federal charge, not state."

She watched his eyes as they narrowed, but he didn't respond. "So, Joey, how's your brother doing?"

He looked up. "My brother?" he asked, not sure where she was leading this conversation.

"Yeah, your brother, Steven isn't it? I hear he's been in some trouble lately."

"You keep my brother out of this!" he snarled.

"He could go down for a third strike this time, Joey."

He stared at her for several long seconds, then slumped back. "What do you want?"

"I want the location where Guthrie is holding Matt Hawkes."

Joey tapped his fingers on the table, clenching his jaw. "Hypothetically speaking, if I did have this information you want, what would I get out of it?"

"Hypothetically speaking, if you give us any information and it helps us to save the life of Ranger Hawkes, we could keep your brother out of jail. And possibly get you a reduced sentence."

Joey stared out the window. His brother Steven was a good kid, the first two times he's been arrested were bullshit crimes, petty stuff. This arrest probably was too, but a third strike could mean him spending his life in jail. Joey wasn't too worried about himself, he could handle prison, been there before for long stretches. But Steven...well Steven wasn't like Joey. He was too soft for prison. And Steven was the only one to take care of their ma.

"What kind of sentence?"

"Now, I'd have to talk to the prosecutor about that, but we could reduce the charges."

"And Steven?"

"He's facing felony charges right now. I could have them reduced to misdemeanor, talk to the judge, since if he'd give him a suspended sentence. But he'd have to keep his nose clean. If he commits any further crimes, I couldn't help him with that and he'd be gone on three strikes for sure then."

"He can't go to jail. They'll kill him in there."

"Just give me an address, Joey."

"You realize, if I give you this, Guthrie will kill me."

"Joey, I know you. I know how you work. You have always gone out of your way not to hurt anyone when you pull a job. Why would you get involved with Guthrie?"

"Hey, it was just the job, until he found out those yahoos grabbed Hawkes' kid."

"So, Matt wasn't the original target?"

"Hell, no. They were just supposed to grab whoever was manning the phones at that Ranger station. Guthrie wasn't even supposed to have contact with him. They were supposed to leave him in the cabin and then once the job was done, we'd call and tell them where he was. But Guthrie went weird when he found out who he was."

"Will Guthrie kill him?"

Joey shook his head and looked away. "I don't know. If it was anyone else, I'd say no. He doesn't like complications. But this...it's revenge for his kid. He just might. I tried to talk him out of this, but he wouldn't listen."

"Where is he, Joey?"

"What time is it?"

Surprised by the change of subject, Foster didn't answer at first. Then she glanced at her watch. "Ten-forty-five, why?"

"You'd better hurry. I'm supposed to call him at midnight. If he doesn't hear from me, he was going to assume that the job was compromised. He'll probably kill that kid."

"Where Joey?"

"Give me a piece of paper."

She slid her notebook and a pen across the table, waiting while he jotted down an address and slid it back to her.

"I want immunity, full immunity for me and the charges dropped against my brother."

"If we find Matt Hawkes alive, I'll do my best," Foster said, as she got up and rushed from the room.

Joey sat at the table, shaking his head. "I never wanted nobody to die."

/

***warning -somewhat squeamish description of injuries to the bad guy here***

_Truckee, CA_

One hour later, the house in Truckee was surrounded by thirty police officers and FBI agents. Jesse had joined them, but Cody had been left behind with Izzy who was manning the radio at the Ranger station. Although the teen was angry, Jesse had refused to let him be involved, not wanting his youngest to be there if they were too late to save his brother.

Slowly, the men and women moved in on the house, every one of them armed and ready for a confrontation. Guthrie was supposed to be alone in the house, but the information they'd gathered indicated he had several weapons inside and knew how to use them. Since they didn't know where in the house Matt was being held, they would try a quiet entry and search, not wanting to force Guthrie's hand and make his captive's position even more dangerous than it already was. They had a floor plan of the house and each group would search a different section. But it was a large house and that many people couldn't be completely quiet.

Jesse stuck close to Hart, Cutler and the two FBI agents. As they worked their way down the long hallway that led to the great room, they heard what sounded like voices, then a muffled thud like something was dropped on a carpeted floor. As they moved next to the door of the room the sounds were coming from, they heard a loud painful grunt, following by several other painful groans, then a crash and glass breaking. The two agents stealthily moved to the opposite side of the door, Foster standing while Vedichi crouched low. Hart and Cutler too the same stance on their side of the door, with Hart down low, while Jesse stood behind them.

Cutler took a quick look inside, his shotgun held upright, against his shoulder. He nodded at Toni, who nodded back, and they both quickly and quietly moved into the room, following equally as silently by the others, spreading out across the room. The sight in front of the fireplace stopped them all in their tracks.

Matt Hawkes was on his knees in the middle of the floor, bloody and panting, his left arm still attached to the chair that lay beside him. His right arm was also still attached to a chair arm, which was no longer attached to the chair. Instead, the arm of the chair was imbedded in Guthrie's abdomen, blooding oozing out around it, as he lay on the floor a foot away.

A bloody knife lay on the floor between them. Guthrie eyes were glazing over as the five moved closer. Jesse moved next to his son, while Cutler and Foster kicked the knife away and checked that Guthrie was no longer a threat. Alex radioed the others that Matt and Guthrie had been found, but advised them to continue the search to verify that no one else was in the house. All this went on around the father and son, who paid no attention to the chaos as the call went out for ambulances and Crime Scene Investigators.

"Matthew," Jesse said quietly, not wanting to startle his son, who appeared dazed. He dropped to his knees, then slowly reached up and placed his hand on Matt's shoulder, causing the younger man to flinch. "Easy, Matt, it's just Dad."

It took nearly a full minute before Matt noticed the others. He turned his head and met his father's eyes. "Dad?" he whispered.

"It's over, Matt. Your safe now," Jesse said, reaching up to place his hand on the side of Matt's head.

"Safe?" Matt asked, blinking his one good eye, his voice slurred by the damage to his face. "Dad...hurts." He began to lean, losing what little strength he still had left.

"I know, son, I know. We'll get you to a hospital right away. It's okay, Matt, you'll be fine," Jesse said, trying to reassure both Matt and himself. "An ambulance is already on the way."

"Tired," Matt breathed as he slid into his father's arms, his eye closing as he lost consciousness.

Jesse gathered his son to his chest, not wanting to release him now that he'd found him again. He sat down, placing his legs on either side of his son, and just held on, one hand on Matt's chest to be sure he was still alive. He ignored the gurgling noises coming from the old man on the floor, only looking over once the noises stopped. Guthrie lay there, eyes open, the last thing he saw before he died was his captive and his enemy being reunited with each other.

Father and son sat together in the middle of the room, Jesse's hand moving first across Matt's chest, then through his hair, the whole time murmuring softly, a quiet oasis as the others moved around them.

/

_Barton Memorial Hospital_

_South Lake Tahoe_

Cody Hawkes paced the floor of the waiting room. They'd received a call from Cutler, saying they'd found Matt, and that Avila was flying him down to Barton. Izzy had quickly given Cody a ride to the hospital, then returned back to the Ranger station to man the radio and phones. So now, the teen was waiting for the chopper to arrive with his brother and father.

He turned at the sudden commotion as a team of nurses and doctors converged on the door, as a gurney slammed through, followed by Robin and Jesse, who followed until the nurse stopped them at the door of the exam room.

"Dad!" Jesse turned as Cody ran toward him, then wrapped his arms around his youngest son.

"We found him in time, son. He's hurt, but he's gonna be okay."

"You sure?" Cody asked, the fear evident in his voice.

"As sure as I can be. He's got some bad cuts and he was beaten pretty severely, and he's running a fever. Robin thinks he has an infection from the earlier gunshot wound. But he's still hanging in there."

Cody turned to the blond female Ranger. "He's strong, Cody," she said. "He's gonna be in pain for quite a while, but I have faith in him."

The teen nodded. "Can I see him?"

"Not right now, son. Let the doctors take a look at him first."

"Yeah, Cody. They'll probably have to do some x-rays and clean him up a bit before they let you see him. It'll probably be awhile."

Jesse turned Cody and nudged him back toward the waiting room. "Why don't we go sit down and wait for him."

The trio settled into the waiting room. Over the next two hours, they were joined by the other Rangers, including Izzy who was finally relieved by a Sheriff's Deputy. Jim Cutler came in with Jackie Hawkes, who burst into tears when she saw Jesse. Agents Foster and Vedichi, along with Sheriff McBride and several other Deputies and State Troopers arrived later to check up on their injured colleague.

Jesse pulled Toni Foster and Mike McBride aside. "Guthrie?" he asked.

"Pronounced dead on the scene, Jesse," Foster assured him. "Self-defense to the max."

She and McBride exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"What aren't you telling me?" Jessie asked.

"Jesse...we ah, we found a tape," Mike told his old friend.

"What kind of tape?" McBride glanced at Foster again. She nodded and looked away.

"Seems that Guthrie not only took photos of what he did to Matt, he also took video. We found a tape still running. Agent Foster played it back. Apparently during an earlier struggle, the chair Matt was sitting in got knocked over. It must have broken when he fell, because when Guthrie went after Matt that last time, Matt was able to pull the arm off the chair away and used it to defend himself."

"I saw what happened to Guthrie," Jesse replied. "I'm just thankful that Matt was strong enough to still do that after all the injuries he sustained."

"I agree," Toni said. "You've got quite a kid there, Jesse. I'm not sure I would have had that kind of strength after all he went through."

"When you're fighting for your life, you'd be surprised the strength you can find," Jesse assured her. "Plus, he's a Hawkes. He has a spine of steel."

McBride nodded in agreement, but the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a couple of doctors in the waiting room.

"Mr. Hawkes," the taller man spoke, looking around the room.

"How's my son?" Jesse asked, approaching them, Cody and Jackie both moving up next to him and the others crowding around.

"I'm Doctor Fuller, this is Doctor Jackson. Considering what your son has been through, he's in good shape. He has a lot of injuries, none of which alone is life threatening. Taken in total though, he's got a lot to overcome. Right now, he's fighting a severe infection. I have to ask, who removed the bullet?"

The others looked at each other confused, until McBride spoke up. "From what one of our prisoners said, Guthrie did that himself." Jesse looked at him surprised. "Sorry, Jesse, I forgot about that until just now. The two men that took Matt are the same two that delivered him to Guthrie at the house in Truckee. Apparently he was in pretty bad shape then, and Guthrie thought taking out the bullet would keep him alive longer."

"Bastard!" Jesse growled.

"Well, whoever it was, probably saved his life," the doctor remarked. "If that wound had been allowed to fester, untreated, he likely wouldn't have made it to the hospital."

Foster chuckled, holding her hands up in apology as the others glared at her. "I'm sorry. It's just so ironic. This man who wanted your son dead, is the one who ultimately kept him alive long enough for us to find him. I only wish Guthrie was still alive so I could rub it in," she said, losing the smile.

Jesse nodded, getting the irony himself. "Will Matt be alright?" he asked, putting one arm around Cody's shoulder, the other around Jackie's waist.

"The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will tell. We're loading him down with antibiotics and suturing up the lacerations. The one we were most concerned about was the one on his back, but it appears that nothing vital was hit. He has lost quite a bit of blood, so we're replenishing that. And he has some minor frostbite on his hands and numerous bruises and abrasions."

"What about the head injury?" Robin asked.

"He has a moderate concussion," Doctor Jackson said. "We'll be keeping a close eye on that, as well as on his kidneys, since there is some bruising in the area. He has a couple of broken ribs and he's lucky those didn't shift and puncture a lung. We also feared he might have broken his jaw, but x-rays showed differently. He is missing a couple of teeth and has a couple others that will need some repair. Chewing will be difficult for quite awhile. All in all, barring any complications, I think he'll recover, however it will be a long and painful recovery."

"Can we see him?" Cody asked, quietly.

The doctor looked at him skeptically. Jesse stepped in. "This is Matt's brother. I think it would do both of them some good, if you could arrange it."

The doctor nodded. "You understand, he has a lot of bruising and both eyes are pretty much swollen shut. His face is battered pretty severely," the doctor commented.

"I was there when we found him," Jesse assured him. "And Cody can handle it. Right now, he just wants to see for himself that his brother is alive. You see, Matt has been missing for over a day. The man who did all that damage to him, had kidnapped him."

Doctor Jackson took a deep breath. "I see. I wasn't aware of that. By all means, then. Let us just finish getting him cleaned up and bandaged, and I'll have someone come find you."

"Thank you," Jesse said, then led Cody and Jackie back to sit down, as the doctors returned to the examination room.

Alex Vedichi stood up. "Well, since we have some time, I think I'll head down to the blood bank and donate some blood," he said. He started to head to the nurse's station for directions, but Robin stopped him.

"I know how to get there," she told him. They headed for the stairs, followed by several of the others. Jesse, Cody, Jackie, Mike McBride and Jim Cutler were the only ones left in the room to wait.

/

Cody pushed open the door and took a deep breath, steeling himself to confront the damage done to his brother. His father stood behind him, hands on Cody's shoulders, lending his strength to his youngest. Cody took small steps closer to the bed and gasped softly.

The man on that bed couldn't be his big brother. His once handsome face was now marred with bruises and cuts, the left eye swollen shut completely, the entire left side of his face one huge bruise. His right eye was marginally better and he had another cut along the right cheekbone, this one closed with just a butterfly bandage. Both upper arms were wrapped in gauze and Cody couldn't see what types of injuries lay beneath. The blanket was folded just below his chest, exposing the long cut across his pectoral muscles, which held too many stitches to count. Numerous bruises speckled his upper chest as well as a couple of odd, circular marks that Cody wasn't sure about.

He could also see evidence of two large bandages on Matt's back, one about midway down on the left side and one on the upper right. Any injuries to his legs were covered by the blankets. He had wires and tubes going to and from his body, feeding him blood and medicine, and keeping track of his heartbeat and respiration.

Cody reached out and laid his hand on Matt's right forearm, about the only place on his body that there wasn't a bandage, bruise or stitches. He leaned down and whispered in his brother's ear. "Hey, Matt. It's Cody. You're gonna be alright, big brother. You did good. Dad and I are both here and we'll be here until you wake up. We got your back, Matt, so rest easy."

Jesse placed his hand on top of Cody's. "You're gonna be fine, Matt," he said. "We'll make sure of that." He put his other hand around Cody's waist. "Your brother and I will keep you safe."

/

The next morning, Cody woke up stiff from sleeping in a chair all night. During the night, they'd moved Matt to a private room. A nurse quietly entered the room and began taking Matt's blood pressure and temperature. She glanced up when Cody stood.

"Good morning," she said.

"Morning. How's he doing?"

"Better. His temp is down, looks like he's beating the infection."

"That's great," he said, looking around.

"Your dad went down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. I'll need to ask you to leave while we change Matt's bandages, so if you'd like to join him, now would be the time. Come back in about an hour."

Cody nodding, yawning. He put his hand on Matt's head. "Hey, big brother. I'm gonna go grab some breakfast while this good-looking nurse gives you a bath. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he teased.

The nurse chuckled as she checked the readings on the machines Matt was attached to. As Cody stood at the elevator, he watched another nurse and a doctor enter Matt's room. He hoped his brother would wake up today and he'd get a chance to talk to him.

When he entered the cafeteria, Cody spotted his father in the corner by the window, sipping from a large cup. He ambled over and sat on the bench seat across from him, letting loose another large yawn.

"Matt?"

"Doing better," Cody replied. "Nurse said his temp is down. The doctor is in there now, and they're changing all his bandages. She said to come back in an hour."

Jesse nodded. "We might as well get some breakfast then," he said as he stood up and led the way to the grill area. They both ordered breakfast, Jesse paid, and then they returned to their table, trays in hand. A few minutes later they were joined by Cutler and Hart, carrying their own fully loaded trays.

"So, how's Matt doing this morning?" Jim asked.

"Better," Jesse replied. "Doctor's are with him now."

"He wake up yet?" Hart asked.

"No, not yet. But they're keeping him sedated to give him a chance to rest. How's the investigation going?" Jesse asked.

Cutler and Hart exchanged a glance, then Jim looked at Cody.

"Just tell us," the teen said. "I've already seen Matt. I know how bad it is," he insisted. When they looked over at Jesse, the older man just nodded. He didn't keep secrets from his sons and Cody was old enough to know the whole truth.

Hart sighed. "It was bad, Jesse. We watch that tape last night. I gained a whole new respect for Matt. I don't think I could have been that strong."

Jim nodded. "He beat him, cut him, stabbed him, burned him. God, I got sick just watching it, I can't imagine having to live through it."

"Burns? Is that what those marks are on his chest are?" Cody asked.

"Yes, son. Guthrie burned him with a cigar, on his chest and his arms. That's what the bandages are on his upper arms."

"His feet too. Guthrie burned the bottom of his feet with hot coals from the fireplace. He won't be walking easy for awhile," Hart added.

"Dad," Cody said, anger evident in his eyes, "I'm glad that man is dead."

Jesse gripped the back of Cody's neck. "Me too, son, me too. What say we go back up and see how your brother's doing, then I can give your Mom a call and let her know."

Cody nodded and gathered their dishes, putting them in the area for dirty dishes, then waited for his father to say goodbye to Hart and Cutler. The two Rangers promised to come up when they'd finished breakfast.

Father and son returned just as the Doctor and nurses were leaving, the physician adding some notes to Matt's chart. Cody went back into the room while Jesse stopped to talk to the Doctor.

"Hey, Matt, I'm back. Man, you have got to out of this place, that cafeteria food leaves a lot to be desired. Dad's is much better. Heck, even Mom is a better cook than that!" he said with a laugh. "Cutler and Hart told us what happened to you. I know it had to be hard for you, but you sure showed that guy, Guthrie. And you took him out in the end. I'm proud of you big brother. And...Matt, I'm really sorry I've been so, well, awful to you this week. I wasn't really angry, just kind confused about something I read. I promise I'll talk to you about it...but you gotta wake up for me to do that."

"He should wake up soon, Cody," Jesse said, as he walked in. "The doctors are happy with the progress he's making and they're scaling back the sedatives. Hopefully he'll wake up later this morning. Are you ready to talk about what upset you?"

"I will, once Matt wakes up. Please, Dad. It's something I need to talk to Matt about."

"Alright, son. That's fine. I just don't like to see my sons at odds with each other. If you two can work it out together, that's all that's important to me."

Cody nodded. "You call Mom?"

"Yes. She was just getting ready to leave. She should be here in just a few minutes."

"Good. Matt will want her to be here when he wakes up."

"Yes, he probably will. And we'll be here as well," Jesse said, settling into the chair next to the bed and pulling a book from his pocket. Cody grabbed the other chair from the corner and pulled it over to the opposite side of the bed and sat down, continuing to softly talk to his brother.

/

A soft groan alerted them that Matt was waking up. Jackie moved closer to the bed, running her fingers through Matt's hair, careful not to touch any of his many injuries. Jesse was on the other side of his son, gripping the bed rail, while Cody watched from near his brother's feet. They all talked to him, urging him to wake up and open the one eye that was able to open.

Finally, with a deep and painful moan, he tried to open the right eye, a bit of white just barely peeking out.

"Matt, honey, can you hear me?"

"Mom," he said, trying to move and gasping from the effort.

"Easy, Matt. You're in the hospital. Don't try to move around too much."

"Hurts," he hissed.

"Easy, boy," Jesse said, wrapping his hand around Matt's. "You got a lot of bumps and bruises. It's gonna be painful for awhile."

"Cody?"

"I'm here Matt," his younger brother assured him, moving to where Matt could see him. He smiled. "Hey, big brother. You're not looking too pretty right now. But I bet you'll get the sympathy vote from half the nurses in this joint."

Matt huffed out what sounded like it might have been meant to be a laugh, then moaned at the movement.

"Ooh, don't make me laugh. Hurts."

"Sorry, man. I'll try to be more like you, instead of my usual gregarious self."

Jackie and Jesse exchanged a grin. They both knew this was just what Matt needed. Cody too, if they were honest with themselves. The brothers needed a touch of normal, and this bantering was as normal as it got between them.

During the day, Matt dozed off and on, and conversed quietly with his many visitors. Toni and Alex came by to visit and get a statement from Matt. Neither felt that there would be any issue regarding the justification of Guthrie's death, especially after having viewed the video. Matt was glad that they'd come by while his family was out having lunch and figured that it had been planned that way, since Hart and Cutler were the ones to come get his family and treat them at a local restaurant. He'd have to remember to thank them later.

He was drained after the FBI agents left. Re-living that terror had not been high on his list of things to do. But he was grateful it was over. And as awful as it had been for him, he was just grateful it hadn't been one of his Rangers.

Later in the afternoon, one of the nurses came in to work his muscles. Since he wasn't able to walk, that ruled out the normal trips up and down the hall that were usually part of the recovery plan. So instead, they did stretching exercises to keep his muscles limber. Cody came back just as she was finishing up.

"Nice legs, Matt," he joked, as the nurse did one final stretch, then checked the bandages on his feet and pulled the covers back over his legs. She opened the drawer and pull out a wash cloth, dipping it in the warm water in the bowl on the bed table. Wringing it out, she began to wipe down Matt's chest, arms and face, careful of his multiple injuries.

"See, told you that you'd get a bath today," Cody laughed.

"Millie, have you met my brother, Toad?" Matt asked, using the nickname that Cody always claimed to hate, but secretly loved since it showed Matt's affection for him.

"Toad?" she asked with a smile.

"Actually, it's Ace. He only used to call me Toad when he was little and couldn't pronounce Cody. It always came out Toady, but he grew out of the lisp last year," Cody told her, a serious looked on his face that belied the laughter in his eyes.

Millie finished her work and gathered up her clutter. She patted Matt on the thigh and left the room.

"She's cute, Matt. You get her number yet?"

"I take it you missed that huge ring on her finger, Toad?"

"Dang. You saw that? Guess your eye is getting better than."

Matt shook his head at his brother's antics. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Mom wanted to go by the Sheriff's office, the State Patrol office and the Ranger station to personally thank them all for helping in the search. And since she decided to buy them all lunch, as in pizza, Dad went along to help pay for them and carry them."

Cody settled down in the chair next to the bed. For several minutes neither spoke. Cody figured Matt had drifting back to sleep until he turned his head and stared at his little brother.

"So, you ever gonna tell me what the problem was between us?" he asked.

"It's not important," Cody said with a shrug.

"It was important enough to keep you quiet for over a week."

"Matt, after what happened, it just seems so petty now."

"None the less, you thought it was important before. I'm like you, Cody. I don't like secrets. And I hate tension between us. I'd still like to know what it was all about."

Cody bit his lower lip. He'd told Matt the truth. After almost losing his brother, the issue he had with him just seemed so childish and unimportant. He took a deep breath. "Do you remember writing journals when you were a kid?" he asked.

"Yeah, I used to do that all the time. Dad encouraged it. Said the more I practiced writing, the better I would get at it. Didn't he do the same with you?"

"Yeah, he did. I still keep my journals."

"I did too. Until I joined the Rangers, I kept them up pretty regular. But I don't so much anymore. I probably only do it a couple times a month now, when something really eventful happens."

"Like this?" Cody asked, gesturing to Matt's injuries.

"Maybe. Not sure I really want to remember this event," he said with a sad smile.

Cody frowned, "Yeah, I totally understand that."

Matt watched his brother stared at the floor. "So, why did you want to know about my journals, Code?"

His brother stood up and wandered over to the window, staring through the glass. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I, ah...You know I stayed at Mom's last weekend, when Dad had to go to San Francisco?"

"Yeah, I know. You would have stayed with me, if I wasn't working."

Cody smiled. "I would have liked that."

"Next time, Code, for sure."

Cody lost his smile. "Anyway, Mom ended up having to go into work Saturday night when someone called in sick. So I was on my own. I wasn't tired, so I started looking for something to read."

"And you found my journals," Matt said.

Cody turned to look at his brother, and slumped against the windowsill. "Yeah. I'm really sorry, Matt. I know I shouldn't have read them."

"Cody, I don't have trouble with you reading them. Hell, most of the stuff in those journals you know about anyway." He painfully pushed himself up to sit more upright. Cody hurried over to help him, then sat down on the bed. "So, Toad, I'm guessing you read something in the journals that you didn't like."

After a full minute of silence, Cody looked up and pleaded with his brother. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, Code?"

"About why you really left the mountain."

Matt sighed and fingered the blanket that covered him. "Cody, I left with Mom, because otherwise Mom would have been alone."

"That's not what you wrote!" Cody replied angrily, getting up from the bed and grabbing his backpack from the floor. He unzipped the bag and reached in, digging through the contents. He pulled out a battered blue book, held together on one end by a frayed piece of duct tape.

He flipped through the pages, until he found what he was looking for. Then he stabbed at the page with his finger, accusingly. "Right there."

Matt took the book and read the passage.

Mom and I are living in Tahoe now

We've been here a week.

Dad and Cody are still at the cabin.

and Mom won't say when we'll see them again.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.

I lied to Dad when I told him that I wanted

to be with Mom because if I stayed she'd be alone.

Really, I was mad because he and Cody have been

going places without me.

Sometimes I hate having a younger brother.

Before he came, Dad spent all his time with me.

I know that makes me a bad person. I don't really hate

Cody, but sometimes I wish it was still just me and Mom and Dad.

Matt sighed. "Cody, you have to understand. I was twelve years old when I wrote this."

"Matt, you said you wished I wasn't there."

"Did you read any more?"

"A few more pages," he shrugged. "It was more of the same."

Matt shook his head and flipped through some more pages. He had been awhile since he'd read his own journals, but he didn't think what he was looking for was that far back. He stopped and read a bit, then nodded his head.

"Here, read this," he said, handing the book back to Cody.

I want to go back home. To the Cabin. With Dad and Cody.

I hate it here. But Mom says it's too late, that I made my choice.

But I don't know why I can't go back home. I want to go riding with Dad and Cody. I can't even have a horse here.

Mom finally let me radio dad, but he says I have to give it time. He says I'll get used to being in town. But I don't want to! I want to go home!

But I don't think Dad wants me there anymore. When he and Cody came to town for supplies, Cody told me about all the things they were doing together now that I'm not there. Cody was really excited. I wish I could do those things too. But Dad says I chose to leave and now have to live with my choice.

I know he's mad at me because I left, But I never thought he wouldn't let me come home again.

"This one is kinda hard to read," Cody said. "It's all splotchy."

"That's because I was crying when I wrote it." Cody looked up, surprised. "Cody, I remember that night like it was yesterday. I was so hurt, because I thought Dad didn't want me anymore. I thought that now that he had you, he didn't care about me."

"That's stupid."

"I know that now. But think about it. I no longer lived in the only home I'd ever know. My parents were no longer living together. I almost never got to see my little brother. And my Mom, who told me we'd spend all kinds of time together and talked about all the things we could do, now had a job that kept her from home all evening. She didn't get home until almost midnight and I spent the time with mom's roommate, who had a kid of her own."

Matt took the book back and closed it. "I went from being the center of attention in a loving home, to having no one. You and Dad were on the mountain and I only got to see you once or twice a month. Mom was gone to work by the time I got home from school and I only saw her for a little while in the morning at breakfast. We lived in an apartment, with no yard. Everything about my life had changed."

Cody sat back down on the bed, pulled both feet up underneath him. "I remember a little about that time, but I was so young, I don't know if what I remember is true or what I was told."

Matt laughed, but it had a sad quality about it. "I feel the same way. I know what I felt as a twelve-year-old, but I don't know if what I knew was really what was going on. I know now that Dad loved me and wanted me to live with him and you. But he also wanted me to be able to have a say in where I lived. And as I look back on it now, I'm glad I had the chance to live in town and go to school. It gave me an even better appreciation of the mountains.

"I had the opportunity to see what life was like in the big city. And I realized that I was meant to be here on the mountain. That my life wasn't going to be spent in a law office or a courtroom. I made some great friends, friends that I'm still close to today. And it made me appreciate my family even more."

Cody smiled. "I think it did the same for me, at least as far as my big brother goes. We got to see each other so little, that it was like Christmas whenever we did."

"I still feel that way, you know. I look forward to your visits and being able to spend time with you. I might have made some good friends, but I'll only ever have one little brother. And he's just not replaceable."

"I love you too, Matt," Cody said, leaning forward and accepting the hug his big brother was always ready to give. He was careful not to hug too tight, since he didn't want to cause Matt any pain.

The brothers spent the next couple hours pouring over Matt's journal and talking about their own recollections of the events that Matt had written about. And at the end of the day, they'd discovered they had even more in common then they'd ever thought.

**************************THE END*********************************


End file.
